


Stupid With Love

by Tsukiko Hoshino (Ophiras)



Series: Stupid With Love [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Minor Sasusaku that is doomed from the start, Oblivious Haruno Sakura, Sakura yells at plants for stress relief, Sasori doesn't adhere to bro-code, Sasori is the older cousin of the Subaku's, Squished the timeline again, Steal Yo' Girl Sasori, non-massacre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophiras/pseuds/Tsukiko%20Hoshino
Summary: Once, after a Shukaku induced manic episode had caused him to destroy every toy he owned Sasori had told Gaara he ought to treat his possessions better unless he wanted someone to steal them away.Looking at his cousin's bizarre form of flirting he'd come to the conclusion that no one had ever told Sasuke such a thing.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Sasori
Series: Stupid With Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773955
Comments: 180
Kudos: 689





	1. If Plants Could Talk

The same year that Sakura turned 23 she came to a decision, It was the second week of July and Konohagakure was well in the throes of its rainy season which was great for the forest and the plants crowded on her veranda but it didn't do a thing for her already foul mood.

"I have had enough." Sakura scowled at a rather lush magnolia tree. The rain and wind were assaulting her apartment building with a fury that matched her own and she was half sure there would be a power outage sometime in the night. She was of course _not_ speaking to the plant who had always done right by her, sprouting fragrant blooms without fail since she'd gotten it as a housewarming gift years ago.

Haruno Mebuki could lament all her days that her only child couldn't cook much more than rice and eggs but Kizashi would be damned if his girl hadn't been born with a green thumb befitting their family name.

No, Sakura was not referring to the plant nor the rain but rather a person who was nowhere to be found. "Coward!" she accused, watering some poor gardenias a little more aggressively than needed as she recalled having said something similar to Sasuke many years ago in the Forest of Death. 'Well, it's as true _now_ as it was _then_.' She told herself. 

Her relationship with Sasuke reminded her of a yoyo. During the split their team had experienced after the whole Orochimaru debacle that ended with Sasuke under house arrest for a few years, Naruto went off traveling with Jiraiya while she trained beneath Tsunade and swore to put aside her childish crush and focus on her path as a Kunoichi. It was a vow she had faithfully kept for just shy of a decade. 

She'd stopped asking for dates, stopped blushing at every glance he sent her way, she even learned to treat him a little less like an idol and more like a fallible human being in the years that followed. She had not only put the thought of dating _him_ out of her head but anyone else too as she devoted herself to her career.

Sakura probably would have continued along like that until two years ago when Sasuke entered what was jokingly referred to by Naruto as late onset puberty in which he finally seemed to realize that Sakura was a woman and a pretty one at that.

The spring she turned 21 the original members of Team 7 and those who had joined them later had organized a Hanami event close enough that it doubled as a celebration of Sakura's birthday. Naruto and Sai had been put in charge of securing a good spot among the flowering trees while she and Sasuke had been sent to fetch the food and drinks. No one expected much from Kakashi other than being late, though Yamato had sworn he'd get him there on time for once.  
  
Not that anyone had much faith in that at the time.

They had just stepped foot on one of the many red bridges that Konohagakure sported both of her hands were full, the bags she had almost bursting under the weight of the drinks inside while Sasuke totted the large layered bento Mikoto had prepared for the group.   
  
Sakura had stopped to admire the view, the spring breeze scattering the petals of her namesake everywhere, even in her hair.   
  
_“Aaa, Stay still.”_ Sasuke had said, something in his voice she’d never heard before startled her, pulling her eyes off the rippling water as his hands threaded her hair, the petals sifting out of candy-floss colored strands.   
  
She hadn’t seen it coming, the press of his lips to hers and so the bags had fallen to the ground busting open and sending bottles rolling over the edge and into the river, swept away by the current. He’d pulled away looking rather pleased with himself after. Sakura’s face had stayed red the rest of the day growing even darker when Naruto complained that they forgot to bring drinks.   
  
Sakura had thought that day had marked a change in their relationship and it had...sort of. At least _unofficially_ .   
  
Sasuke never called her his girlfriend, they never held hands in public and they certainly never kissed where anyone would see them not even on the cheek and It had begun to grate on her nerves after the first year and she dropped subtle hints because she knew that Sasuke _hated_ it when she nagged.   
  
There were of course people who knew that the two of them were more than friends but Sasuke seemed especially determined to keep it from his family--his father in particular, because everyone knew Fugaku was dead set on future daughter-in-laws with more...pedigree than Sakura had.   
  
“So what if I don’t come from a clan? Everything I have, everything _I am_ is because I worked my ass off and lucked out on genetics.” Sakura said to the fern Kakashi had gifted her for the new year, gripping the decorative pot hard enough to spread cracks through it. “And I’m not _inbred_ like some people!” of course she would _never_ say that to their faces--it would just be rude. 

She'd tolerated being treated like a mistress for two years until she just couldn't stand to drop one more hint that Sasuke would proceed to conveniently ignore and promptly exploded. It was the worst fight they had ever had, or rather it was the angriest she had ever gotten at him but by the end of it Sasuke had promised _this_ year, by his birthday they’d come clean.   
  
Sakura had believed that. So yesterday when he came around during one of her shifts at the hospital all apologetic--or as sorry as Uchiha Sasuke could _appear_ to be while he explained he’d be going away until September on some important mission he couldn't discuss the specifics of nor would he be able to write during his absence. she had simply sighed and said; “Well some things can't be helped…" and carried on with the rest of the day as graceful as someone stewing in disappointment could be.

Had she been upset that their plans had been waylaid? Of course but Sakura was a reasonable person and she accepted it. They were Shinobi and things happened. "And sometimes you _make_ things happen." Sakura was starting to feel bad for abusing her plants but the more she thought the angrier she got.

She would have just gone on believing in Sasuke's good intentions if she hadn't accidentally stumbled onto the truth just a few hours ago on her way home from a hospital shift and caught the chatter of two familiar voices--or rather mostly Naruto's through the flimsy curtains of Ichiraku.

 _"You're telling me that you accepted some lame escort mission just so you could be out of the village a few months? Teme, have you lost it? Why don't you just be honest with Sakura, or even better your family. It's not like half of them don’t know already.."_ There was a loud slurping after that, indicating he'd moved on to his noodles.

" _Because you know how Sakura is. She can be so overbearing, it's better to be out of the village and away from her. This whole business with her wanting to be out in the open and official as she calls it is exactly why I asked for that mission."_ It was more than Sakura had heard Sasuke say when he told her he'd be leaving. " _Even if I tell my father his feelings on the subject aren't going to change...it's better if Sakura just puts it out of her head and cools her heels while I'm gone."_

Naruto went about as silent as her stopped heart at that moment before saying: _"I fucking doubt that, dattebayo... I mean if not now, when? Never?"_

 _"If Sakura loves me like she says she does then she should just be happy with what we have_."

Tsunade would have called her a saint for not punching Ichiraku right off the map with them still inside it.

'Just what the hell was that even supposed to mean?' Sakura had asked herself that question several times so far. Was she supposed to be happy if he got married to some other girl Fugaku approved of so long as Sasuke saw her on the side? Was she supposed to enjoy not being able to go on dates or cuddle in public like every other couple on the planet?

"Because I'm fucking not." She wasn't happy at all but what pissed her off the most was the fact that Sasuke had lied to her, he had no intention of keeping his promise and he was slithering off like a snake hoping she would forget the whole thing. ‘Well that sure as hell isn’t happening.’ 

The whole thing left her feeling like a complete fool and the silent plants around her only seemed to say _what're you going to do about it_? with every shift of their fronds and glossy green leaves. The lights overhead flickered with the force of the storm and with a frustrated sniffle Sakura decided to call it a night, hoping that her problems would clear with the rain.

They didn't.

"Dump him." Tsunade supplied oh so helpfully the next morning. "Brutally, in public--preferably in front of his mommy and say 'it's not me, its you.' Because that would be the truth." What else was she supposed to say after Sakura had shown up in her office all puffy eyed and looking like she'd had herself a long cry.

It didn't take an interrogation to get her former student to spill her woes but then Sakura never was particularly good at hiding her feelings. 'Why can't I retire already?' She complained to herself as she stamped her signature on another paper. Kakashi had outright laughed at her the last time she suggested he take the mantle...of course he wasn't laughing much after she punched him in the arm. It looked more and more as if Naruto would be the Rokudaime--if he could sit still and be quiet long enough.

Sakura huffed at the advice shuffling the papers about as she checked them twice to make sure they were in order. "I don't want to dump him."  
  
Shizune grumbled under her breath. “It's a bit hard to dump someone who you’re technically not dating.” She _almost_ flinched at the betrayed look Sakura gave her. 

"Oh, so you _want_ to keep being his doormat?" The last Senju rolled her eyes at the proclamation. "I thought I taught you better than that."

"I don't want that either!" Sakura snapped back as she tapped her left foot one or twice and then began to pace. "What I _want_ is him wriggling like a worm on a hook, begging for forgiveness...or as close as he can get. I just want to know that he cares, even just a little bit." Her bottom lip only trembled just a tad as she staved off more tears. That had always been the case, it always felt like she cared more for Sasuke then he did her--and this recent event only drove home the point.

Tsunade decided what they really needed was liquor and for once Shizune did not complain when she rose from her desk to retrieve the bottles full of what she referred to as the good stuff while the darker haired woman provided the ochoko, pressing one of the small cups into Sakura's hand to be filled.  
  
It was after Sakura had taken her second cupful that Shizune decided to probe what she was sure to be a sore spot. “You’re basically saying that you’re willing to accept the bare minimum of him. It just doesn’t sound like the basis of a good relationship…” Wounds were often better for the lancing.   
  
“Why don’t I just lay on the floor and you can stomp on me.” Sakura offered, eyes rolling towards the ceiling as she downed another mouthful. The fact that they did not approve of Sasuke was not new to her. They thought that Sasuke had a sense of unearned entitlement which she supposed could be true but at the same time they did not see the side of him that she saw.   
  
Like when he conveniently ran into her when she was returning home from some place or another and walked her, even though it was completely out of his way, or when he vetoed Naruto’s choice of ramen for her sake every now and then, letting her choose their next meal instead. Sasuke didn’t talk much but he was a good listener and she appreciated that because Sakura talked enough for both of them. ’Although what good is listening when you willfully ignore what I’m saying?’   
  
“As long as you’re just sitting around waiting for him it's going to be the same old song and dance.” Tsunade complained and dropped her voice into something low and monotone. “Aaa Sakura, I’m home. “ and then she batted her eyes in a saccharine sweet way, her voice pitching higher. “Welcome Home Sasuke-kun!” the perfect image of a lovesick fool.

Sakura's mouth dropped open. "I don't sound like that!" She looked towards Shizune as if expecting an ally but the dark haired woman only sipped at her cup pointedly. "I wouldn't do that, not after this," her hand motioned in the air vaguely as she insisted, almost spilling her newly filled ochoko in process. "Whole thing!" 

Neither of them seemed to believe her.

For good reason as it turned out. "What about earlier this year when he promised to go Hanami viewing with _you_ for your birthday and anniversary but ditched you for his family? You waited two hours." Tsunade tapped her nails on the desk. "Face it kid, you're a push over when it comes to him and he knows it. He basically said it himself, Sasuke knows _exactly_ how the whole thing is going to play out."

Her foot itched to kick something, mostly herself because they were right the only consolation Sakura could find in her current situation was that at least she had not run into Ino because painful truths would be the least of her worries. Ino would have gone all scorched earth and dragged her right along in her fury. "I should just drop off the face of the earth." She covered her face in shame upon realizing that at some point Ino _was_ going to find out one way or another. 'She can smell secrets like a pig does truffles...'

Worst of all Sakura was having the sudden realization that she at some point had fallen into the nasty habits of her 12 year old self. Doing everything she could to morph herself into some creature more amenable to Sasuke's tastes at the expense of herself. it made her stomach drop.

Tsunade blinked as a thought occurred to her, lips turning slyly. "Now, Now, It doesn't _have_ to be something so extreme, why not just out of the village?" There were few things better than solving a series of problems with one action. It made life so much simpler. “You know that Suna has been looking to improve and overhaul their medical infrastructure--we’ve been discussing it for years but we could never quite come to... _amenable_ terms for what they wanted.”   
  
They may have been allied shortly after Sasori took office but that didn’t mean she had been counting on it to last long enough to send them someone as valuable as Sakura when they had first posed it years ago and just because Suna’s economics improved after their former Daimyo died didn’t mean they could just buy her apprentice. ‘But, the alliance held for seven years and given the current Kazekage is basically Naruto’s fanboy…’ She couldn’t think of a reason to withhold their assistance on such a front.   
  
Well...there might have been _one._ ’But that might not be bad given the current situation.’ Tsunade snickered into her cup. ‘If that works out it might even be a net positive all around.’   
  
“Yes, but they asked that almost five years ago.” Sakura said as she slumped into one of the office chairs next to Shizune.   
  
“Better late than never. I want you to think about this carefully Sakura, This is not just about getting back at Sasuke--You’ve been floating that idea of a children’s hospital but the funding and approval are not forthcoming because you lack _experience_ .” Those were not her own views but those of the elders. “Getting Suna in order could go a long way in shutting those voices down.”   
  
That was what really got her attention, eyes brightening as she shot up from her seat.”You really think so?” It was the happiest Sakura had looked since she walked in.   
  
“I do.” Tsunade smiled. “But you have to be aware that this could be rather long term. The original proposal they sent was tentative when they asked for a year. You’re not going to be able to come home until it's through or you’re given leave by Suna.”   
  
Her first thought was of Sasuke, leaving for a year with things as they were couldn't possibly be good for them. ‘But he’s the one who said if I loved him I should be happy with what I have...doesn’t the same go for him?’ She supported his dream, even if she didn't particularly understand his almost obsessive desire to be viewed as better than his brother. ‘This could be a big step forward in making my dream a reality.’ and it wasn’t as if they couldn't visit or write, Suna was only a three day trek.   
  
“I want to know before I bother making any plans what your answer will be."   
  
It would be a lie to say that the alcohol and her own spite played no part in the “Yes!” that tumbled from her mouth without further forethought. "Oh my plants…" it wasn't like she could pack them up and take them which was a real shame. Instead she'd have to get Ino or her parents to care for them if they had any hope of surviving her departure.

There may have been several more drinks consumed in the time that it took Tsunade to compose her letter. Sakura couldn’t be too sure, things began to get a little fuzzy for her around the fifth pour. She woke up the next day with a pounding headache and a departure date that left her with a small time frame to get her affairs in order. 

Given that it was a Shinobi village her apartment would be paid for until she returned, and she managed to wrangle her parents and Ino into stopping by and watering her plants periodically. In the end after much debate Sakura, despite how pissed she might have been did pen a note to Sasuke explaining the details of her absence, minus the relationship drama and took it to the Uchiha compound.   
  
Leaving it with Mikoto meant having to answer awkward questions, leaving it with Fugaku meant getting stared down….which left her with Itachi or Shisui. In the end she decided that whichever one she ran into first could be the unlucky bearer.   
  
A turn down one of the streets and she caught sight of both the men she was looking for sitting at some tiny tea shop they liked to frequent in the Uchiha district. “Well, that didn’t take nearly as long as I thought.” That or they were just predictable to her at this point.   
  
“Sakura-chan!” Shisui waved excitedly so much so that he would have whacked Itachi in the face if the long haired man hadn’t ducked just so.   
  
“Shisui, she isn’t deaf.” Itachi intoned. “But I _will be_ if you don’t lower the decibels.” He held up the plate of dango that had been sitting on the table untouched in silent offering.   
  
“Oh thank you.” Sakura hoped the sugar would help ease the pounding behind her eyes as she took a stick, taking the seat at the end of the bench next to him. “I can't stay long.” she fished the envelope out of her side pouch and set it on the table. “Next time you see Sasuke I’d appreciate it if you gave him this.” The chewy texture of the dango meant she didn’t have to answer the inquisitive looks with words.   
  
“Is there a reason you can’t deliver it yourself?” Itachi questioned pouring a cup of tea for her after Shisui returned from fetching it.   
  
“I won't be here…I’m going to be in Suna for at least a year.” Itachi and Shisui might have been intimidating to a lot of people given their reputations and rightfully so but she’d known them for about a decade...’And also I’ve seen them half naked before.’ so she did not buckle under the pair of dark eyes trying to suss out her every secret. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”   
  
“How sudden.” Itachi hummed, head already full of thoughts. ‘Oh dear…’ he certainly prophesied trouble on the horizon one way or the other.   
  
“A year? But I’m coming up due for my annual shots and you know I hate being stabbed in the ass by strangers.” Shisui complained and she should see by the shifting of Itachi’s shoulders the faint sigh he was exhaling.   
  
Sakura only patted his shoulder comfortingly. ‘Great and mighty Shinobi horrified by little needles are endlessly amusing.’ she thought with a wry smile. “Thank you for the tea and dango.”   
  
“My pleasure.” Itachi smiled serenely. Out of team 7 he had always been of the opinion that Sakura had always been the most level headed of out of the 3 if Kakashi was to be excluded. His brother was unfortunately in the possession of an immense ego that often carried him away. So while he had well founded suspicions that Sasuke had very recently messed up in some way or another he wasn’t going to pry. ‘All things come to light in time.’ he mused. “What will you be doing in Suna?”   
  
“Essentially running the hospital and medical corp, giving them a well needed leg up in the medical field.” Suna was very, very good at killing people...not so great at treating them. ‘Then again that is a Konohagakure specialty.’ They had the highest survival rate of all the villages, a fact that Tsunade never failed to rub into every other Kage’s face. She finished her tea and answered a few more questions before taking her leave.   
  
When he was sure that Sakura was well out of earshot Shisui turned to Itachi. “I know he’s your precious baby brother and all but Sasuke’s played himself _bad_ with this whole have his cake and eat it too ploy. I mean it's not like your dad doesn’t already _know_ \--Fugaku-san is also a ninja.” Sasuke was severely underestimating the intelligence of everyone around him if he thought he was being secretive about his pseudo relationship with Sakura. ‘It's only like the worst kept secret of the village right now.’   
  
“Sasuke is just trying to avoid any blatant disapproval, he thinks as long as he keeps things out of direct line of sight what he does is beneath notice.” Itachi leaned his cheek into the palm of his hand. “There is a reason I frequently refer to him as foolish.” he pointed out, watching a few leaves drop from a persimmon tree. Itachi loved him, truly he did but well...Sasuke was not particularly good at looking ahead and he had the great misfortune of being overly concerned with clan affairs and the approval of their father. ‘A hard thing to gain from a man as stern as Father is.’   
  
Sakura’s acumen alone should have been enough to gain Fugaku’s blessing but it seemed as though he was clinging to old enmities between the Senju and Uchiha, not quite ready to let go of past slights even though Sakura had no blood in the fued. “He only has himself to blame for whatever comes.” Itachi said at last, tucking the letter that was left behind into his shirt. 

  
The following days were a blur of activity for Sakura as she haphazardly packed her things, bid her farewells and proceeded without escort towards the desert--she was a bit unused to solo-traveling but it also meant she carried on at her own pace pretty much unworried about an ambush. 

Anyone who tried would be signing their death warrant. There were not a lot of ways to kill her thanks to the seal and it was going to take more than an average ninja to manage the damage output that was needed to take her down. ‘I mean at this point It’s decapitation, exhaustion, _maybe_ a particularly virulent disease of some sort and inevitable old age that I really need to look out for.’ She’d never tested that last theory out and didn’t have any intention of doing so. 'Here lies Haruno Sakura, successor to Tsunade the great sannin, felled by an aggressive, self injected fungal infection.' She thought humorlessly. 'No thanks on that front.' She did not inherit her mentor's love of gambling.

By the time Suna was in sight she was sweaty, covered in sand and her skin stung faintly.

If someone were to tell her Akasuna no Sasori, former Kazekage and the shadowy right hand of Gaara would be waiting for her at the gates of Sunagakure she might have laughed. Temari, sure. They saw one another often enough in Konoha that they were friends, Kankuro too given the fact she'd saved his life...even Chiyo who she still exchanged letters with would have been expected but _not_ her grandson.

Sasori didn't exactly come to mind when Sakura thought of a welcoming face. She would have just assumed he was simply lounging around for some other reason if he hadn't pushed off the wall he'd been leaning on when he caught sight of her. He retained that same sedate expression that made him look as if he’d like to crawl back into bed and he _still_ looked as as if he hadn't aged all that much since he hit his mid 20's 'Good grief, whatever he's doing with his face he could make a killing if he sold it on the market.' 

She struggled to find the words to say in greeting unsure of what would be appropriate. Sasori wasn't exactly what Sakura would call a stranger. They'd met more than a few times but if she were to consider the encounters that stuck out the most there was a decent sized list. 

The first being when he'd been present as the Subaku's Sensei during her first Chūnin exam. Seven years older, he could have been seen as Suna's version of Itachi...if the latter had an attitude problem.

The only real interaction she’d had with him then was when she’d been waking people up from the genjutsu they’d fallen under as Sasuke pursued Gaara. Sasori had a way of looking at people that left them feeling like they were the size of an amoeba and she’d felt no different seeing him sneering down at her as he said _“I guess you’re not completely talentless after all.”_ and cutting down a Oto-nin intent on ending her short little life.  
  
Apparently he’d realized Orochimaru’s double cross and decided to go off script to mitigate the damage--a ploy according to Tsunade to put him on the better side of what he already knew would be a losing situation otherwise. There was no doubt Sasori foresaw that he would end up as Kazekage with Rasa dead and simply wanted something to hold over Konoha’s head.   
  
He’d looked utterly incredulous when Kakashi had sent her, Naruto and Shikamaru off to collect Sasuke, going as far as to call the Copy-nin a complete dunce--offering the soundest advice of _“Little Girl, you’d best stay out of Gaara’s way if you want all your internal organs unruptured.”_  
  
Not that Sakura had listened. ‘But I came out of it alright.’ maybe better than alright because it only served to hammer home the fact that she was woefully behind the rest of her peer group and if she wanted to be a Shinobi who lived past 20, much less a _good_ one she’d better step it up.  
  
Especially after some familial spat no one was ever told the specifics of and the psychological effects of Orochimaru’s seal sent Sasuke from the village and there was nothing she could do to help. That in the end was what drove her to Tsunade and her inevitable second meeting. It had been almost a year since the last Chūnin exam and Sasori had taken over as Kazekage until Gaara reached the age of 18.   
  
There had been some pretty intense negotiations going on at the time given the fact that Suna had just _tried_ to wipe Konoha off the map. Not that she had been listening at the door or anything.   
  
Still, she could recall sitting on a stack of books outside Tsunade’s office reading until it felt like her eyes were going to bleed right out of her skull because she had an upcoming test--and by test she meant Tsunade would try--and _succeed_ in beating the living daylights out of her all while asking her what she remembered before ever allowing her to try the techniques out on a living person.   
  
It proved to be a brutal and effective training regimen, because being forced to think and move, desperate to avoid bruised bones and shrapnel from accelerated dibre turned out to be good conditioning for coping with the stress of intense situations like say, having to stick her hands wrist deep into someone's chest cavity.  
  
So there she was, face buried in a chemistry book reading about reagents and solvents as she tried to figure out the right components to an antidote she’d been tasked with hypothetically creating. The book of plants was open and splayed over her knee.   
  
The funny thing, or rather the _difficult_ thing that made being a medic worthy of Tsunade’s acknowledgement was that learning mystic palm was the least of it. She was expected to master multiple trades. Fighting and evading, healing and destroying. Knowing the body down to every different cell that made it up--of which there were about 200 hundred _and_ on top of all that Sakura had to know what substances, or combination thereof could benefit or harm the body they made up.   
  
Not to mention all of it had to be done while constantly pooling her chakra to a specific spot without ceasing--otherwise she’d never unlock the Byakugō. So hell yea, she was busy and monumentally distracted.  
  
Which is why she could have been excused for snapping at the shadow that had crossed into her light and lingered a little longer than necessary. Thinking it was likely Ino coming to nag her about taking a break and eating a proper lunch Sakura complained and shooed a hand without looking up. _“Shove off Pig.”_   
  
_“My, haven’t you gotten mouthy Little Girl.”_ _  
_ _  
_Thinking about it made her blush because Sakura was well aware that she had probably looked a lot like that poor gasping-for-air fish she’d practiced on the first few months of her tenure, She’d just called a foreign Kage a pig and that Kage happened to be someone who had earned the name Akasuna because they literally dyed the sands red with blood. ‘Well, shit.’ she’d thought, dragging her eyes up from the massive tome as she offered a sheepish smile. If he didn’t kill her she was sure Tsunade would after hearing about it.  
  
 _“I uh...didn’t mean you.”_ Sakura wished she were a fluid so she could seep into the wall behind her and disappear from his intense eyes, Rather than chew her out he seemed more interested in the title of the book.   
  
_“Does someone like you even comprehend what they’re reading?_ ” It was almost a scoff.   
  
_“Like me?_ ” There was no doubt that she’d scowled at the implication. “ _And Yes, I do understand it.”_ She might have only had a week with the material but Sakura was confident she had a good grasp of it.   
  
Maybe he was feeling particularly indulgent that day because he didn’t simply leave it at that. _“There is a person is suffering from the effects of a chemical nerve agent, what in your opinion could be the main ingredient in the cure?”_  
  
 _“Atropine, which can be found in mandrake and other species of Nightshade along with pralidoxime chloride. Injected into the muscles--repeated treatments might be necessary for best results.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Adequate.”_ He’d said just as Shizine opened the door to Tsunade’s office to let him in. _  
_Sakura wouldn’t say he was impressed but it at least felt like she went from being a single celled organism in his eyes to having multiple ones. He was in and out of Tsunade’s office over the course of a few days and each time he saw her there he’d ask another question about some ingredient--if she was correct he never failed to acknowledge it and if she were wrong, which only happened once he’d simply tsked and let her correct herself.

For whatever reason Tsunade did not end up beating her any harder than usual and Sakura just thanked her lucky stars for that.  
  
The third she’d met him Suna had officiated the next round of Chūnin exams and Sakura had been given the go head to attend as the 3rd member of Ino’s team in place of Shikamaru, making Ino-Saku-Cho a thing. It was rough at first, she wasn’t used to fighting with a chakra handicap, the fact that she’d effectively cut down her disposable supply by continuously storing a portion meant she had to learn to do more with even _less_ than she had before.   
  
Her Chakra pool had never been particularly deep to begin with and she was struggling the first half of the survival round until things just _clicked_ for her. She decimated a giant sand scorpion with a single punch and served it for lunch, blew through her one on one matches--and almost destroyed the arena in the process but that wasn’t _really_ important.   
  
What was important was that during her promotion Sasori had been in the room when she got the news. _“You may very well be the most improved of your academy._ ” Those words in retrospect might not have sounded like much, but to her they meant something. It felt like recognition for all the hard work she’d put in, the bruises and the sleepless nights of studying, the tears of frustration and every failure that threatened to claw out her heart.   
  
It was one thing to hear something like that from Tsunade, or Ino, or anyone else she knew because there was always the chance that they only said it to make her feel better. Hearing it from someone who had no stake in her feelings meant it could only be the truth.   
  
She met him again after she’d turned 15. Some terrorist group had lured Gaara out of the village intent on stealing the Ichibi, meanwhile Kankuro had been poisoned by something pilfered right out of the then Kazekage’s own workshop--it had been a real mess considering he’d been away on some diplomatic trip at the time, visiting the new wind Daimyo after the previous one and his immediate family had taken violently ill and died within quick succession of one another.   
  
Team 7, minus Sasuke who was still under house arrest at the time and Team Gai were dispatched to supply support. About ten minutes after Sakura had finished administering the antidote that would save Kankuro’s life Sasori had walked through the doors as they were discussing their plans, Chiyo-baasama had just offered her services to the cause.   
  
_“I see you’re not dead.”_ He’d still been wearing his official robes, though the hat was missing as he spoke to Kankuro. _“You don’t look like you’re suffering too much though...Did they mistake a paralytic for one of the deadly ones?”_   
_  
_ _“Heavy metal.”_ Sakura corrected, holding up the sample she’d filtered out from the younger Puppet Master. _“This thing was a real piece of work by the way. The cellular destruction was astoundingly quick. You really ought to keep antidotes on hand for something this awful.”_ _  
_   
“ _Why would I do that? If I were to accidentally poison myself I would deserve to die and if someone were to be poisoned by me I obviously wanted them dead. Making antidotes for things meant to kill defeats their purpose and is a waste of time. As for Kankuro? he should have dodged better._ ” The expression--or rather lack thereof and the emptiness of his tone reminded her of how he’d looked at her the first time.   
  
The startling realization that it wasn’t just her that he looked down upon but basically everyone upt to and including his own blood struck her. _“What kind of statement is that? They’re your family and you act like it doesn’t even matter if they die!”_ Kankuro was Sasori’s cousin, his student and a member of the village he was meant to protect with his life.   
  
“ _Girl, Is that really something a Shinobi should say_ ? _You should know that all Shinobi are nothing but disposable tools_ .”   
  
Her teeth had grit so hard they ached--and Naruto, who was poised to interject with his own complaints was drowned out by her shrill voice. “ _Why’s that the only way that you can think? Ninja’s are still human beings no matter how you look at it, saying that death is inevitable therefore its pointless to care...what sort of stupid logic is that_ ?” Anger had a way of making Sakura braver than she would have been otherwise and her tongue had gotten away making her forget just who she was talking to. “ _If we go by what you’re saying than me creating that antidote was a pointless endeavor because someday Kankuro’s going to die from something one way or another_ . _If that's the case antibiotics are a waste too."_   
  
Something in his head seemed to click--like the gears of a machine grinding into motion. It was probably the most emotion she’d seen out of him--the fractional widening of his eyes as they moved from her and off to the side. It reminded her of the face she sometimes made when she was doing complex math. “ _How unexpected._ ” He said at last. “ _I’ll admit it, you really are impressive...at least with antidotes. I’d like to see how you fight but given the situation it is best I remain here. Hag, you’ll have to tell me if she fights as well as she runs her mouth...if you come back alive.”_ it was said with the flippant wave of his hand over his shoulder.   
  
Chiyo, after their battle had ended and Sakura was tending to their wounds would go on to explain some of the animosity Sasori had exhibited. “ _He’s a creature of the time he was born in and I’m afraid I only made it worse. You shouldn’t judge him too harshly Dear, hard times breed hard men.”_ the old woman had said, patting her hand. “Though I’ve never seen him so unsettled as I did today.” She cackled raucously, the sound booming through the cavern they were in. _“That boy isn’t used to being yelled at you see. You gave him quite a shock.”_ _  
_   
There was definitely a strange family dynamic at play but Chiyo-baasama and Gaara did make it back in the end, both a little worn around the edges but alive. Team 7 rested for a day before they were off and running to return home. 

Sakura met him after that when he had proceeded to do something unprecedented in Sunagakure’s entire history and stepped down from his ruling position. Unlike Konoha, Suna was more of a monarchy and no one had really expected Sasori to relinquish his power. Sakura didn’t know much about him personally but she did hear the whispers. That he liked power and control, that the sudden death of the former daimyo may not have just been due to the spread of bad germs...but apparently he disliked being Kazekage enough to all but throw the hat at Gaara by the end.   
  
In anycase, Tsunade had attended the inauguration of the 6th Kazekage and took her and Naruto along as extra bodyguards--Naruto had mostly gone because he and Gaara were friends. By that time Sakura was 20 and had unlocked the Byakugō years ago although she’d only ever had to use it once by then.   
  
They were slated to be in Suna for an entire week but she’d run into him on the first day, Sasori hadn’t seemed particularly surprised to see her when she came strolling around a street corner and almost straight into him. In the years that she’d known him Sakura had become a bit accustomed to him wearing the robes of a Kage and seeing him in the black, sleeveless turtleneck and standard Jōnin pants had thrown her for a bit of a loop.   
  
“ _Ah_ ,” He said, by then she’d grown up enough that they were almost equal in height when she wore modest heeled boots. “ _It seems like every time we meet you’re different but_ exactly _the same.”_ Sasori seemed both tacitly delighted and vaguely befuddled by it.   
  
“ _And you haven’t changed since the day I met you_ .” Sakura noted dryly because he hadn’t. Whatever skin care regime Sasori had going was working for him, There was not a wrinkle in sight nor a single grey hair that she could spy--he was only seven years older, the same age as Itachi so she supposed it wasn’t _that_ unexpected. But even Itachi had wrinkles around his eyes by that time.   
  
“ _Oh, Darling Girl you certainly do know how to compliment a man_ .” Sakura had found herself more than a little startled when he’d gently cupped her face to get a better look at her. Most likely it was the exact moment that she realized Sasori was a man and a handsome one at that. _“I used to think that true beauty only existed in things that were everlasting and unchanged by time, but I’m finding more and more that some things are...transcendent_ .”   
  
Whatever he meant, it made no sense to her then nor now when she thought about it, she _had_ been a little distracted at the time by his long fingers trailing a path up the curve of her cheek to thumb at the mark on her forehead. “ _You really are something to behold. It’s a shame you’re wasted where you are.”_ If she had wanted to figure out what he’d meant she should have asked sooner rather than doing her very best impression of some poor woodland creature about to be devoured.   
  
Naruto, who she had been on her way to meet for lunch bellowed out her name from the midst of a gathering crowd--something that in most cases would have spelled trouble if she weren’t already used to the following Naruto tended to attract.   
  
_“You should consider a longer visit to Suna sometime._ ” He’d said, stepping away from her. _“It could be...mutually beneficial.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Her face had been warm from the sun--or maybe the constant sand in the gales that buffeted the streets. _  
_ _  
_ Those were about the last of her meaningful interactions with him--the rest of that week was hectic and heavy on decorum. She’d been about at her wits end trying to keep Naruto in line--for someone who wanted to be the next Hokage he had an abysmal time keeping his damn mouth shut long enough to not insult anyone, _accidently_ or otherwise. Sakura came home feeling like she spent more time bodyguarding Naruto from himself than she did Tsunade from any possible threats.

Sakura saw Sasori occasionally after that, usually whenever there was a mission that took her into Suna. Their conversations sometimes culminated in discussions about theoretical surgeries--he seemed particularly interested in her thoughts about the implantation of a chakra disperser. Though there was also the pointed commentary about this or that, Sasori was nothing if not witty in a venomous sort of way.

Elusive was probably the best word she could use to describe him. 'As a Shinobi should be.' In fact one might call him the very model of what their lifestyle embodied, for better or worse. Sure he could assassinate someone in ways that they'd never be able to prove were him if he wanted too and lose no sleep over it at night--but then again Sasori had a severe disregard for human life that made even _other_ ANBU uncomfortable. 'Although Temari said he's a lot better on that front these days.' Sakura wondered where the change had come from.

"It's about time." Sasori said. She'd only made him wait _years_. Even windswept and faintly pink from too much time in the sun she'd only gotten more lovely since the last time he laid eyes on her. Sakura only seemed to get better with age.

"Sorry, were you waiting long?" Sakura ruffled the sweaty strands at the back of her neck. Living in the desert was going to take some acclimating.

"Longer than I would for anyone else." 


	2. The Definition of Intimate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura gets herself settled and Sasori is more than welcoming.

The first time Sakura had ever been to Suna she’d hardly had time to consider how run down it looked or how empty the streets had been--which could have been viewed as a by-product of a recent attack. But in the years that followed, the rare ventures that brought her through the gates made clear that much of the woes Suna faced were funding related. Money couldn't buy happiness but a lack of it _could_ cause despair and disrepair.  
  
'That being said…' Sakura thought that time and a good deal of money had done wonders for Sunagakure. The buildings would always look scuffed up on the outside thanks to the abrasive winds Kaze No Kuni was famous for but the streets weren't as empty and there was more color than she could recall from the last time she visited. The shopping districts bustled with imports that they never had a hope of seeing in the past, brightly colored banners and cloth assaulted her eyes in the busier districts but above all else , the people didn't seem like the weight of the world was about to come crashing over their heads at any moment.  
  
It was nice. There was just one teeny, tiny problem. ‘Their economic boom means they have a little more money for things like say...renovating guest housing, ’ And right when Sakura was due for a long stay.  
  
 _Don’t worry_ , Gaara had said pleasantly after Sasori had escorted her to the Kazekage’s office. _We’ve already arranged appropriate accommodations for you. You might as well be family, therefore you should be treated as such._ _  
__  
_In the spirit of being treated like _family_ Sakura would be staying on the swath of property owned by the Kazekage Clan. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Uchiha compound, they had less bodies to house but that just meant it was far more _intimate_ . There were apparently three habitable houses on the premises, the first being where Gaara and his siblings had lived their whole lives, the second where Chiyo and Ebizō had moved in together and the third where Sasori had taken ownership of his childhood home. _  
_  
Before she’d even arrived it’d been decided that since Sasori had the most free space it was only logical that Sakura stay with him. It wasn’t unheard of, having to room with a client or in the company of local Shinobi when one stayed over in a foreign village--though the reason for that was typically mistrust and a desire to keep an eye on external entities. Sakura liked to think that wasn’t the case in her current situation.  
  
‘Still, I thought Sasori wouldn’t want to share his home with…’ They weren’t strangers. ‘...anyone , ’ she finished the thought.  
  
Sasori had always seemed like the type of man who liked his solitude, the people whose company he kept the most were often those he just couldn’t get rid of; Family, that blond guy Iwagakure had sent over in the hopes of improving relationships between the two villages. Although Temari has once whispered that it was more like they wanted to pawn off an absolute menace and make him someone else's problem for a while. In her letters Chiyo had outright called it an attempt at inter-village sabotage or something to that effect.  
  
Without thinking Sakura found herself looking for rare splotches of greenery amidst all the earthen toned buildings. Cacti were a given and plenty of houses had them in brightly decorated pots, sat near entryways or on window sills. Occasionally there were desert roses with stocky, twisted trunks that reminded her of the bonsai Yamato liked to keep.  
  
The further the two of them moved from the closely cloistered streets in which the buildings had been designed to let heavy shadows fall over passerbyers, the bigger the plants became like acacia trees with sharp thorns and date palms. At the point when they crossed into the area that marked the beginning of where the Kazekage clan retained property there were massive sprawling plants with silver-green leaves and dark purple flowers. Sakura paused to admire them and the faint scent they gave off when the wind hit them right. It was a type of sage if she recalled correctly.  
  
Sasori had stopped just over the threshold of the wide stucco archway. “I suppose I should mention there is a private greenhouse on the premises...use it as you wish.” he trusted her enough to give her free range of the facility.  
  
“Oh, thank you.” As it was the only other structure Sakura knew of was the one attached to the hospital and it had been tightly controlled the last time she had needed use of it. Everything taken was catalogued, who had used it and what for. ‘It takes a lot of water resources and intense work to get some of those plants to grow.’ And she could hardly think of another place that had round the clock plant-tenders on hand. He started moving again and Sakura took that as her cue to follow.  
  
“If you follow the path straight you’ll hit the main residence where those three reside, to the right; that old hag and her brother.” The homes were not particularly far apart, like the segmented pieces of one massive house sharing a courtyard. Sasori came to a stop in front of a door.

Sakura was instantly distracted by the bright yellow flowers clustered by it. ‘And you know, the genjutsu.’ She could feel it disorienting the view and for a moment she wondered if the plants were a part of it. “Kai.” pressing her hands into the seal did not make the blooms disappear but their color went from a distracting shade of yellow to a deep maroon. The haziness she’d been experiencing faded.  
  
“Good.” Sasori was standing in the open door already.  
  
“You could have warned me.” Sakura huffed, because whatever the Genjutsu had been made to do left her head aching.  
  
“You’re proficient in Genjutsu, I simply had faith you would notice on your own--which you did.” Sasori grabbed her by the wrist. “Come along, you don’t start work for another day but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything to do in the meantime,” he pulled her through the door and shut it behind them. “My workshop and lab are downstairs, If I’m not inside it’s locked...if I am inside you should knock,” for a variety of reasons, he certainly didn’t want some mechanism he was fiddling with to misfire and catch her in the eye even if she could repair the damage.  
  
Stripping off his sandals Sasori set them on the rack by the door before donning his house slippers. “Those are yours.” he gestured to the white pair standing by. “The kitchen is in that direction, use what you like but do try and keep it clean and orderly.”  
  
Sakura flinched. “You don’t really have to worry about that. I can’t cook.” The last part was mumbled under her breath, meant to be unintelligible.  
  
“You can’t cook?” He echoed but this time there _was_ amusement in his eyes. “But you can craft complex antidotes...and rudimentary poisons from what I hear.”  
  
“Hey! They aren’t rudimentary…I just prefer to focus on other areas.” Sakura crossed her arms, tapping a slipper covered foot in a way that made his eyes focus on her slim ankle. “And that's completely different then making a meal.”  
  
“Strange, I find the process to be much the same.” Sasori’s head canted to the side thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure to prepare enough for both of us.” he said, hand pressing against her waist to guide her along. The foyer and living room spoke for themselves, the kitchen and attached dining room were accessed through one of the round doorways that were indicative of Suna’s style.  
  
As bare and austere as the houses tended to be on the outside, Sasori’s seemed determined to make up for it on the inside. Overlying the stucco walls were intricately carved wooden panels decorating the walls like lattice, pieces so delicate they seemed more like bits of ornamental lace then they did creations derived from hard material.   
  
Sakura was guided to the second floor of the building without much preamble. The one thing she noted was that the house was immaculate. ‘He must spend a lot of time trying to keep the sand and dirt out.’ Because she couldn’t spot a speck of dirt. Sasori’s room was at the very end of the hall, her's apparently across from the hallway bathroom that was designated for her use. There were a few other doors that led to empty rooms that had yet to find a use and a set of steps that led to an attic and the roof.  
  
In all it was way bigger than her parents house which was basically a townhouse in one of the shopping districts of Konoha. ‘Then again my parents didn’t come from prestigious families.’ And they had retired from Shinobi life shortly before she’d been born to run a herbal shop that Sakura never took much interest in until after she’d begun apprenticing under Tsunade.  
  
“Take a shower, take a nap.” Sasori advised, taking in her haggard appearance. “You have all of tomorrow to unpack and run errands before you start work. I’ll wake you when dinner is done.”  
  
Sasori’s suggestions always had a way of sounding like orders, whether from their lack of tonal inflection or the succinct wording he employed. ‘Of course it could also be that he’s gotten used to giving commands.’ Sakura thought, dropping her travel bag on the floor of her new room with a muffled thump. Most of her things were sealed in scrolls but she had a few changes of clothes and toiletries handy. ‘And I honestly cannot wait to be clean.’ Her skin felt gritty, salty and it stung just a little which really served to prove that she’d been too long in the elements.. She had a good idea of how she looked and it wasn’t her best.  
  
Sakura took a moment to admire the space though it lacked many personal touches; the bed linens were crisp and white and there was a deep red carpet overlaying the wooden floor. One glance at it and she could make out desert addaxes and lions lost among scrawling floral vines. ‘Cute.’ She had to tear her eyes away from studying the finer details to gather what she needed.  
  
Towels had been left in the bathroom, which like the rest of the house, was immaculate. ‘I can barely keep an apartment clean and it's only like...three rooms and a balcony.’ She missed her plants. Pointedly ignoring her reflection because looking would only make her cinge, Sakura dumped her dirty clothes into the empty hamper and reminded herself to ask Sasori where she could wash clothes later. ‘ _That_ at least is one of the chores I excel in.’  
  
The first drops of water against her skin made her flinch. ‘Definitely some sunburn going on...or windburn.’ Her arms were pink. ‘And that's what you get for wearing no sleeves in a desert.’ Sakura chided herself, though she still found herself perpetually puzzled at how the rest of the people she knew from Suna managed to stay so pale and unphased by the lack of cover. ‘With the exception of Kankurō, he’s at least covered from head to _almost_ toe.’ Sakura mused and gingerly washed away her travels with soap under the steady stream of water.  
  
Damp haired and dressed in cleaner clothes Sakura fell asleep on top the covers almost as soon as she hit them but not so soon that she didn’t think of Sasuke. ‘If everything goes well he’ll be back in Konoha in less than three months.’ It was a little petty of her but she sort of wished he encountered every minor inconvenience possible on his escort mission. ‘Rain, sleet, mud...lots of mud.’ And that the client was super annoying.  
  
The question as to what Sasuke was going to do when he came home and she wasn’t there had been going through her mind since Sakura left home. ‘If these three months come and go and there is no word from him...isn’t that a sign that things are over?’ How much longer was she willing to wait for Sasuke to get things together, another two years? ‘If I keep letting things go nothing will change…’ And before Sakura knew it she’d be thirty and forever alone. ‘That's just not going to happen.’  
  
That was the one thing Sakura was _absolutely_ certain of when she fell asleep.  
  
Given her profession she had been trained from an early age to simultaneously sleep anywhere and wake up at anything, which was why she was honestly surprised to find she hadn’t stirred when Sasori opened her bedroom door, nor when he’d walked inside. No, what broke her slumber in the end was the feel of his fingers perusing her cheek, sliding a few strands of hair off her face.  
  
“Dinner is done.”  
  
Sakura blinked a few times into the gloom. “How long did I sleep?” Had it been so deep she hadn’t heard him at the door, felt when he stood over her bed? Maybe that was just the difference between her and someone with his experience, though she wondered where exactly her skill level fell when compared to Sasori’s.  
  
“Long enough, come along Little Girl.”  
  
It had been a very long time since Sakura had felt it but having chakra strings cast over her body was not an easily forgotten sensation. If one strained against them or if the puppeteer was less than fluid in their craft one could be left with pretty sore muscles afterwards. ‘Or if you're inexperienced and not sure how to give yourself into the movements at first…’ Chiyo’s aid years ago had been indispensable but in the aftermath Sakura’s body had been left feeling stiff for a variety of reasons.  
  
Sasori’s back was to her but she could see his fingers twitch and felt her limbs move to comply. “That's just not fair!” Sakura complained as she followed the pull. ‘What a dirty trick.’  
  
One glance over his shoulder told her all she needed to know. Sasori just found the complaints amusing even though he let the threads disperse as soon as she was on her feet and moving. “You give control so easily.” The way the words flowed from his lips almost made Sakura stumble. Low-toned, there was something almost appreciative in the way he was looking at her head tilted to the side and neck craned to watch her.  
  
Nibbling at her lip as she searched the floor for her slippers Sakura supposed it came down to trust. “I learned from your grandmother it's better not to struggle.” Though by the end she had mostly been moving unassisted the beginning had taken some getting used to. Her mind wanted her body to move one way but Chiyo’s strings pulled her another.  
  
“A shame I wasn't there for that.” Sasori was down the staircase with smooth grace that seemed more like gliding than stepping.  
  
‘Show off.’ Sakura humphed, it wasn’t as though she was clumsy or anything---far from it but Sasori was like fluid all while seeming careless.” You only missed what was arguably the more terrifying moments of my life besides, you did have a responsibility to keep this village stable.” That fight fell right below the one and only time she’d had to resort to the Yin seal after some mercenary did his best to bisect her torso around the age of 18. “Speaking of which I do have a question…”  
  
If the smell of his kitchen was anything to go by Sasori could definitely cook but Sakura found herself blinking briefly at the chair he’d pulled out to indicate where she should sit. “What exactly does a retired Kage do?” She questioned, finishing her query as she slid into the seat.  
  
“Abdicated.” Sasori corrected, because _retired_ made it sound as if he were old and incompetent and that was about as far from the truth as things got. “And whatever he chooses.” The neck of Sakura’s oversized shirt was slipping down her shoulder, showing a difference in color between what had been recently exposed to the sun and what hadn’t. Sasori’s gaze followed over the line of her clavicle--it was more of her than he’d seen before, she’d always favored high collared shirts for active duty.  
  
“Which would be…?” Sakura glanced down at the dishes before her curiously, there were stir fried vegetables in some variety, fluffy white rice, miso and a fish she didn’t recognize with perfectly centered grill lines.  
  
Using his chopsticks Sasori cut the fish neatly down the center. “More or less what I did _before_ I was in charge of three brats and a village.” Rare was the occasion someone could buy a man of his skills these days and he had no interest in anything B-rank and below. ‘Even those are hardly worth my time.’ he thought, passing half to Sakura’s dish. “Puppetry and poison are an ever evolving craft, especially after someone develops an antidote to your life's work in less than an hour.”  
  
Most people might have been bitter about such an event but not him, no. It simply taught him that he had been complacent, that he’d been too long at the tip to remember defeat. ‘And it was also the moment I truly saw what she would become.’ Everything after had simply watered the seed that had taken root. To him, the more brilliant Sakura became the more beautiful she was.  
  
Sakura offered a cheeky smile at the commentary. “It's not like it was easy.” she hadn’t even been positive it would work but there had been no time to second guess herself with Kankurō’s life on the line.  
  
“Nothing worthwhile ever is.”  
  
From across the table there was something in his gaze that Sakura couldn’t quite grasp, the light of the kitchen turning them to something closer to bright amber than sepia. She swallowed a mouthful of rice. “So...you’re trying to make a more deadly poison than the last one?” Or maybe he already had, she’d crafted that antidote over 8 years ago. The fish had been cooked in something sweet and citrusy, a combination she appreciated.  
  
The faint curl of his lips--a rare sight if she ever saw one left Sakura more startled than when she’d seen him at the gate. There was a time she’d thought seeing any Uchiha besides Shisui and Mikoto smiling was rare but with Sasori it was like witnessing a once every century cosmic event. He had smirks and sneers but very few honest smiles.  
  
It reminded her of a self satisfied cat.  
  
“If you’re so interested perhaps I’ll let you peruse my works after you’re better settled.” Her opinion was one Sasori would value highly. ‘Of course there is also the running and maintenance of a spy ring.’ But part of having one of those was that no one knew the workings of it but him.  
  
It was in part due to those long spanning threads that Sasori knew quite a bit about Sakura’s life in the too long periods he went without seeing her, along with the more anecdotal information his family provided. Especially his grandmother’s letters. ‘Like that business with that Uchiha.’ The stupid one--though that wasn’t exactly descriptive since there were so many of them. “I also work pathology for the hospital, you might see me on the premises occasionally.”  
  
Allowing Gaara to take control didn’t mean Sasori was content to do nothing with his time, he had a restless mind and idle hands were made for trouble--a fact he knew all too well.  
  
“A man of many talents.” Sakura teased over her miso bowl.  
  
“And a master of each one.” Sasori countered, one did not climb as far as he had on false modesty.  
  
“Naturally.” Sakura replied with a giggle. “Except _maybe_ teaching kids. Temari told me about the time you got her stuck in leech infested water.”  
  
Sasori rolled his eyes. “Still shrieking about that is she? I can hardly be blamed for that.” It had been their first mission out of Suna--the first time the Subaku’s had been allowed out of the village for that matter and they had ended up in some swampy marshland...and then Kankurō, the first to follow him across the sludge fell in and came out with leeches stuck to his face.  
  
Temari, in disgust and horror, had refused to cross in a timely manner so he simply...expedited things. “All she had to do was walk over it.” Gaara hadn’t had any trouble mostly due to his sand creating convenient little footholds. After that Sasori had put them through the paces of refining their control enough to adhere to whatever surface they needed to under duress or otherwise. Of course that _didn’t_ help Temari recover from her leech-phobia. ‘Not my problem,’ Sasori thought. ‘And it's not like Kakashi was much better to his three students.’  
  
“And the time you ditched them in the desert for a week.”  
  
“That was their perception, not reality.” He’d been around because only a complete _imbecile_ would leave Gaara to his own devices surrounded by sand and two people he couldn’t decide if he hated or not. “And it was a very good survival exercise.”  
  
“They got drunk off some weird cactus and Gaara almost had a psychotic break!” Sakura probably shouldn’t have laughed when Kankurō told her that story--she’d seen Gaara at his worst first hand but...there was just something oddly funny about the way the events had been related to her.  
  
“Gaara was _always_ having a psychotic break back then.” Sasori sipped at his soup, positively serene about the subject matter.  
  
Sakura could have pointed out that he had not exactly been _helpful_ in preventing them from happening but then again no one in Gaara’s life had been, not even his own father. ‘And no one was particularly helpful regarding Sasori’s own issues…’ over the years she had pieced things together from what was said and _unsaid_ to which Sakura applied a generous helping of learned experience to formulate an opinion. ‘Hard times breed hard men.’ Chiyo had said that to her years ago regarding the man across from her and Sakura believed that.  
  
It was stories like his and Gaara’s, like Naruto’s, Kakashi’s and Sai’s that made her want that children’s hospital so desperately. ‘So that the young don’t have to suffer and fall, trying to figure out things on their own.’ A place that specialized in catching and caring for wounds seen and unseen before they set into the break. “He’s come a long way.” Sakura said at last.  
  
“Haven’t we all?” Even Sasori was not unchanged. That chuunin exam from so long ago had been the impetus behind many things. Kankurō had joked that there was just something in the air around The Leaf that created major behavioral changes and while whimsical, it _was_ a tempting theory to explain things.  
  
The rest of dinner passed in pleasant silence but when Sasori went to collect the dishes Sakura grabbed his arm. “You cooked, I’ll clean.” It was only fair and she could at least wash and dry dishes. “...and later you’ll have to tell me where I can do laundry.” There was a nod of his head in assent and she let go, busying herself at the sink after gathering the remnants of dinner.  
  
In Sasori’s opinion the shorts she was wearing might as well have been nothing, smaller than the ones she employed as part of her active attire. ‘She’s likely to get cold in the night when the temperature drops.’ they were about an hour off from that and while he wouldn’t have minded keeping her warm he knew that such an offer would be met with refusal and future mistrust. Sakura would just have to learn about life in the desert the hard way.  
  
By the time Sakura had finished and found the appropriate spots for everything Sasori had wandered off without a word. “Well,” Sakura said, covering her mouth and the yawn that escaped. “Back to bed I think.” She was stretched her way out of the kitchen, arms knotted over her head as she went.  
  
“Girl, come here.”  
  
‘Ah yes, Sasori the lurker of dark corners.’ Sakura thought wryly and turned to the voice slowly. “You know my parents designated me _Sakura_ at birth because that's what they _expected_ people to call me.” Her arms crossed over her chest with a _hmph_.  
  
“And the doctors designated you as a _girl_ at birth.” With one quirked finger, Sasori gestured for her to come forward into the living room. The motion was backed by a phantom tugging around her torso.  
  
Sakura’s feet moved on their own though, passing by the shelf full of neatly ordered books and scrolls and beyond the deep purple couch that sat before a low table. “You can’t just puppeteer me anytime you grow tired of wai--- _ack_!” His fingers were cold and slimy, dragging across her cheek. “Aloe?” The scent and feel were easily recognized, but when Sasori finished one pass over her face the sight of him scrubbing the rest of the leaf into a sappy goo just proved it.  
  
“Stay still.”  
  
Her eyes had slid closed when his thumb passed over the edge of her orbital socket and along her brow, face scrunched slightly at the cold residue being spread over it.The calluses Sasori possessed were faint and likely from the work it took to craft puppets but his touch was gentle if not through. It felt a bit like having her features mapped by touch. ‘Its…’ _intimate_. That was the word for it because Sakura couldn’t recall anyone having touched her as long as Sasori was in the face. Not even Sasuke.  
  
By the time Sasori’s thumb was passing between her brows and down the ridge of her pert nose Sakura realized it wasn’t a bad feeling--if it had been she would have put a stop to it. The places where the aloe had already been spread suddenly felt warm and she was coming to the realization that maybe she was somewhat touch starved. ‘ Even if Sasuke and I have been dating for two years we’ve been pratically virginal.’ being kept like a secret did not exactly make her willing to put out. ‘Okay so our relationship wasn't...isn’t healthy.’ she could admit that.  
  
It was around the time that Sasori’s fingers came close to her lips that Sakura opened her eyes again and saw just how close the two of them were. The former Kage only had a few inches over her in terms of height and maybe a couple more pounds of muscle due to biological differences.’But height does not mean all that much when you make up for it in...intensity.’Which Sasoru gave off in spades; fingers splayed, cupping her chin and cheek, close enough to feel the heat of his body in the space between them. “Uhm...Thanks?” her voice sounded like a squeak and that was just unbearable.  
  
She didn’t quite have a comparison for the way that he looked at her, eyelids cast lower over his eyes the shadow of his lashes making them seem darker. It seemed a bit like the way that he’d looked at her upon discovering she’d created the cure to his poison, or maybe closer to that time he’d found her wandering around Suna to meet with Naruto on their protective detail. ‘And he was just as comfortable feeling up my face then as he is now...’ Sakura tried to recall if anyone had mentioned him being that way before but couldn’t.  
  
There was a 50 percent chance the warmth coiling its way under her skin was just her skin flaring up from the sunburn and not a blush.  
  
“Be mindful of the sun.” Sasori advised, taking one last look at the glossy coating he’d applied to her face. “And take this,” He dropped a rather hefty aloe-vera into her arms, which he noticed she automatically cradled like a baby. “You’ll probably have need of it again.” _  
_  
“Oh,” Sakura blinked down at the succulent. It was heavy and over a foot tall. “Nice.” they could grow to be about 3 feet and she promptly forgot--or rather _forced_ whatever had just passed between them out of mind as she assessed the plant. There was a spot in her room under the huge circular window that would be just perfect for it. ‘Actually there might be room for a few more…’ A year was a really long time not to have any plants.  
  
Sakura was clambering her way up the steps but paused on the third one from the top as she remembered something. “Thank you.” She turned to look down stairs where Sasori was wiping his hands off on a damp cloth. A part of her was glad the plant was big enough to hide her face behind, seeing his hands just reminded her of before and she hoped the thought wouldn’t become a common occurrence. “And goodnight.”  
  
Sasori’s head tilted in the dim light, the gold glow of the lamps catching the red of his hair and highlighting the various shades that made up the whole. “Sleep well.”  
  
Falling back asleep was easier said than done because even after placing her new plant, brushing her teeth and climbing back into bed it honestly felt like she could still feel him touching her. That and the temperature of the house had dropped and her legs were cold. ‘Fuck.’ Sakura huffed and threw a pillow over her face. She’d learned to sleep through worse things and eventually she worked her way into a nice velvety blank state of mind.  
  
That bliss ended sometime in the early morning if the sunlight dapping across the carpet Sakura had thrown herself on when the house shook was anything to judge by. “What the hell?!” listening hard enough with her ear pressed against the floor she could hear familiar voices, mostly Kankurō, Temari and one she couldn’t recognize. ‘It's probably better if I get dressed before going down.’ It was one thing to wear pajamas in front of the person she’d be sharing a house with for a year, another to do it in front of a stranger.  
  
Sakura was a master at getting ready in a short amount of time, her morning routine was down to an art even if her settings had changed and she found her way down the steps and to the kitchen where the chaos was still ongoing in short order “Oh, Chiyo-baasama!” the old woman was at the stove, turning something over in a wok with her chopsticks.  
  
The kitchen which had been just her and Sasori the night before was now full of the entire living Kaze-line plus two.  
  
“Hello dear.” The old woman greeted and pointed the sticks at a chair. “Have a seat.” There was a _thump_ from the table and Sakura saw that the blonde guy she vaguely recognized as Iwa’s menace was face first on the floor, sprawled out in front of the empty seat next to Sasori.  
  
“Here, now.” Sasori pointed to the empty space.  
  
“Sasori-No-danna!” The blonde whined. “I was there first, un.”  
  
“I don’t even want you in my house.” Actually he didn’t want _anyone_ in his house besides Sakura, but his grandmother had an annoying habit of sneaking in no matter how he tried to keep her out and where she went her brother soon followed. It was the same with the other three. ‘And since they all know Sakura’s here they're congregating.’ It was annoying.  
  
“Is it always this lively in the morning?” Sakura wondered, hesitating to take the seat that someone had been thrown out of. It sort of reminded her of meals with the entirety of Team 7 and that was pleasant and familiar. ‘Ah no!’ Sasori’s threads were at it again and soon she was stepping right on the blonde guy and into the seat. “That wasn’t nice!” She glared at the man next to her. It was bad enough being moved, even worse that he’d made her step on some guy’s back.  
  
Gaara scoffed into his tea cup.  
  
“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” Kankurō wondered, grinning all the while. “Besides, it's only Deidara.”  
  
“Screw you too, un.” Deidara huffed, picked himself off the floor and dropped himself into the chair between Kankurō and Temari. “So you’re the one.” he squinted at Sakura and shrugged. “I just don’t see i- _ow_!” Someone had kicked him and it was impossible to tell who because at least three people were glaring his way and Sasori had his usual bland face on display.  
  
Sakura noted that there were already several dishes littering the table with varying contents from sliced, fresh fruit to steamed rice and pickled vegetables to bread, jam and hard boiled eggs. Sasori took a cup from the center of the table and filled it with green tea, pushing it in her direction.  
  
“Oh how cute.” Temari cooed and then cursed when her own cup _mysteriously_ tipped over into her lap. “Damn it!”  
  
Ebizō flipped through the newspaper he was reading, although no one was sure how considering it looked as if his eyes were long lost within his wrinkles. “It's so nice to see everyone so cheerful in the morning.”  
  
“Yes _cheerful_.” Sasori spat the words out like venom.  
  
Chiyo set a large dish of fried, sugar sprinkled dough in the center of the table and Sakura looked at it with loving eyes. “Uh-huh.”  
  
“So good to see you again Sakura-chan.” The old woman said, patting the girl’s pretty pink hair. “I do hope you enjoy your stay with us.” Preferably so much so that she never wanted to leave.  
  
Temari hoped Sasori learned to share because he was going to be having an awful lot of family meals in the coming year.  
  
And probably _long_ after if things went according to plan.  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon that Sasori would have been a jerkface Sensei....because he’s just a jerkface in general.
> 
> This thing is basically Spring Fever but without babies on the brain and everyone gets their shit together much earlier in a canon-esque setting lmao. 
> 
> Sasori: Yo girl, I heard you like plants. BAM. got one right here. It's also super useful...like me.  
> Sakura: nice. -ignores him for plant.-  
> Sasori:...miscalculated but ok. 
> 
> Now if you are familiar with my writing and the fact that I like to sneak things from other stories all over the place you might be thinking to yourself: Hm, that plant is awfully familiar and Hm, does that mean anything? 
> 
> Idk fam. I just do not know. 
> 
> PS: This was Beta’d by Tiny. Sakura so say thanks.


	3. A United Front

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura doesn't realize that a functionally dysfunctional family has a lot of high hopes for her but to be fair, she doesn't realize a lot of things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (early) Birthday FirethatFox,! This is me, sharing my youthful vitality and hipness with you. Don't worry, matching green spandex is not required! I hope you like it ( ˘ ³˘)❤

“Do not show up for dinner,” Sasori warned them after breakfast came to an end. “And I am not cleaning up after you people.” It was bad enough he was apparently stuck starting his day with them, he had no desire to end his nights in the same manner. ‘If they choose not to heed my warnings I can hardly be blamed if they get sick at the table.’ Or worse.

Temari’s eye rolling was not discreet nor had she meant for it to be.

Kankurō, after dropping his dishes at the sink, threw an arm around the back of Sakura’s chair and pressed his cheek to the crown of her head as he batted his eyes. “But Sasori-Senpai, would you really deprive her the pleasure of our company?” He’d never quite gotten over his idolization of his cousin but that didn’t mean he was beyond torment, not when Kankurō had about 24 years of salt he could dish out.

The withering look Sasori gave him was a pretty good indication of his feelings on the matter.

Sakura was more concerned about whether or not Kankurō’s face paint would smear all over her hair.

Gaara cleared his throat, finding that Kankurō was approaching the situation all wrong. “Wednesdays,” he said looking at Sakura over the folded peak of his hands. “Are for family dinners, we alternate venues and this week it's Chiyo and Ebizō’s turn. You’re more than welcome.” It was an event Sasori had made himself scarce for ever since the rest of them had decided to pull together the fractured remnants of what could hardly have been called a family before the Chūnin exam years ago.

The Sand Siblings had learned all about manipulation at Sasori’s knee from an early age and he had probably learned some measure of it from their Grandmother. Gaara was simply putting into practice what he had been taught and the both of them knew it. The number of times the poison-master had shown up to family meals willingly could be counted on one hand and they were usually the result of him wanting something. ‘And what he wants is Sakura.’ Therefore it stood to reason in Gaara’s mind that his cousin’s attendance would soon see an uptick.

“I don’t want to impose.” Sakura covered her mouth to hide the smile because she found the entire scenario to be adorable. The only other large family she knew didn’t do much speaking during meals, it was considered impolite in the Uchiha household. Her present company were very vocal and most of it was harmless teasing...or it may have been outright insulting one another but they were all so thick-skinned no one took offense.

“Nonsense, we're having tempura this week in your honor.” Chiyo tutted. “I’ll be personally offended if you don’t show up. Dinner is at 5:00.”

Sasori didn’t need to hear Sakura’s affirmation to know the both of them were caught, she wasn’t going to say no. ‘Not when she’s thinking of that witch as a nice, little old lady.’ he’d been watching her throughout breakfast, the way she smiled and laughed so easily. ‘One night a week is a small price to pay…’ At least until he figured a way out for both of them.

“How come we’ve never had bakudan?” Deidara had only met Sakura twice in the two years he’d been in Suna and they had more or less been in passing, but for the life of him he just didn’t get it. ‘So what, she’s kinda pretty. There are plenty of pretty girls.’ And yet he’d never once seen Sasori’s head turn for anybody the way it did for her. Every time the former Kage heard that she would be within the village he dropped whatever he was doing to make himself available. ‘ I guess that alone is proof enough he’s interested in her.’

Deidara had been there when Sasori had gotten word that the leaf-kunoichi would be in Suna for at least a year and the look in his eyes had given him goosebumps. ‘It was the same kind he gets when some trap he set gets sprung on whoever stepped in it.’ Like the thing Sasori had been waiting for had finally happened, which from past experience hardly seemed like a good thing.

“Because you’re rude and invited yourself, just like this morning.” Temari scowled, ever since that time Deidara had managed to sneak explosives into Gaara’s sand she’d been holding a grudge.

‘It was just a joke and he was only unconscious for a few hours, un’ Deidara thought as he slouched into a sulk.

“Don’t you people have duties to carry out or whatever it is retired, decaying husks do with their ample spare time?”

“As I am now, so you will be, So prepare for death and follow me.” Ebizō quoted sagely as he turned the page of his newspaper.

“I appreciate that you’ve already decided on your epitaph.” Sasori remarked dryly and then glanced at his grandmother who sat on the opposite side of Sakura. “I was planning to have ‘Liar’ inscribed rather than your name, any thoughts?”

Chiyo laughed like he’d told a joke. “Only that It's adorable you think I’m leaving you in charge of my funerary arrangements.” She didn’t want to end up in an unmarked grave or worse still, unburied. “Ebizō and I will be cleaning up this time.”

Sasori declined to mention that he took no issue with defacing a gravestone or desecrating bodies.

“Oh see here, Scorpio's horoscope for the week reads as; If you truly want to get closer to someone, you have to lay your own desires bare. The kind of bonding you crave requires vulnerability. Uniting with others over a common goal will only bring you closer!” Ebizō tapped at the words pointedly, at least until the newspaper floated right out of his hands.

The paper fluttered across the room, flowing directly into the resident Scorpio’s hand. He was naturally suspicious, Ebizō had a sly mind even if in Sasori’s opinion age had dulled it. Still, putting it beyond the man to make up a false horoscope to suit the current situation would be foolish. Eyes flicked over a few lines only to find that the words were inked exactly as they had read. ‘Not that I take much stock in this kind of screed but on a purely logical basis the advice is sound.’

“What does it say about Aries?” Sakura turned away from Gaara as he explained who would be giving her a tour of the hospital tomorrow, ducking her head close enough that her hair spilled over to brush against Sasori's shoulder.

“Be open to receiving advice as it relates to pursuing a dream. Your pursuits will help you realize what is truly worth chasing in life as well as what you should just let go of. It’s never too late to realize your heart’s desire...” The scent of her hair and the feeling of the individual strands were distracting to the point that his fingers twitched, head canting lower instinctually.

Sakura hummed and tapped her fingers against her elbow thoughtfully. “Perfectly ambiguous.” she complained with a pout. “I mean I have tons of dreams, how am I supposed to know which one its referring to?” When she went to lift her head she was startled to realize how close they were. “Ah, sorry.” And then recalling just how...touchy he’d been the night before she cleared her throat and rose from the table suddenly, pink cheeks visible for all to see. “I have, uh...unpacking to do.”

“Great, I’ll help. It's my day off.” Temari spared a smirk for her least favorite redhead. “Don’t you have a job?” She wondered in false sweetness.

“Several,” Came the monotonous reply. Most of them could be completed without ever leaving the confines of his house if he were so inclined and Sasori found himself very unmotivated to venture far. He caught Sakura by the wrist as she passed by. “Lunch is at 1:00.” Her insistence that she didn’t need him to prepare every meal and could manage on her own was thoroughly ignored.

Following that chaotic breakfast Sakura busied herself with unpacking the things she’d sealed into scrolls for ease of travel. Most of the other attendants had departed shortly after finishing, Gaara to attend to his duties with Kankurō as on hand security and Sasori had likely left for his Lair of Evil as Temari had eloquently termed it in a whisper, Deidara sulking after him.

Temari’s eyes were drawn to the lone green plant sitting on the seat of the large circular window that took up one of the walls in the guestroom that had never seen use before Sakura’s arrival. “I see you’ve already started a new collection.” She wondered how long it would take for the space to become overrun.

“Your cousin gave that to me.” Sakura tipped her bag over and a cascade of scrolls, toiletries, rations and miscellaneous supplies spilled out.

Sensing that there was a story attached to that statement Temari prodded at it. “Oh? What for? That guy hardly gives anyone anything...unless you count a hard time.” He gave that generously.

“I was sunburnt, he…” Maybe it was better not to mention that he’d applied it on her. Sakura unfurled the first of the scrolls and it spat a mess of clothing and junk she probably had not needed to pack out all over the floor. “Helped.” She finished lamely, hoping not to be questioned further about it. ‘Sasori put his hands all over my face and it was not awful and also not the first time.’ She was not going to say any of that. ‘I feel that I am far too used to artistic people doing weird things...’ Like that time she’d woken up to Sai staring at her in the dark after letting himself into her apartment, hovering over her bed with a sketch pad in hand. ‘He never did show me what he was working on.’

‘Oh I’ll bet he did.’ The sly smile that threatened to creep over her face was tamped down, if she knew him less than she did Sasori’s ability to be smooth might have been surprising. ‘But he’s always been good at acting.’ To the point that it was hard to tell what was false and what was true. He was the same person who had told her that politicking and puppetry weren’t all that different, they were in the end both about manipulation. ‘He never had any problems smiling at a person while he plotted to put a knife in their back.’

Temari found herself lining up the nail polish bottles Sakura had spilled out across the floor by color and hue, a tick she shared with or had perhaps learned from Sasori. Most of it was green, sometimes with a metallic sheen and there were even a few shades of red. “So... things aren’t going well with Sasuke? Uchiha pride getting in the way of things?”

Sakura’s bedroom door slammed open, Deidara standing in the archway. “I’m sorry did you say Uchiha?”

“How long have you been standing outside my door and also, why?”

Deidara shrugged. “Curiosity, un. You’re dating a Uchiha?”

“It's complicated.” Sakura was surprised to find Temari’s voice intermingled with her own only in complete mockery. “Hey!” She whipped one of the rare pair of pants she owned at her. It was starting to get old, having people copy her. “How do you even know about that…?”

The other woman shrugged right out of the way and finished her color sorting. “You’ve liked him since you were a flat chested genin and Ino might have been very drunk on one of my recent trips. Not that she needed to be...I have to be honest with you, for a secret an awful lot of people know about it.” And what they were saying wasn’t exactly the stuff dreams were made of.

There was a betrayed gasp as Sakura crossed her arms defensively. “I seem to recall that you thought he was cute too.” And so had Tenten and basically every other teenage girl.

“ _Everyone_ thought he was good looking and cool back then...and then our hormones leveled.” And in her case, Temari’s brain began to speak in a language she could understand; _Logic_. She threw her hands up defensively as soon as she noticed Sakura scowling down at her chest. “Would you relax? They’re bigger now. ”

Naturally, Deidara’s lone visible eye took a brief once over of the topic of discussion. “Yea, they’re fine, un.”

A strangled noise escaped Sakura’s throat as she contemplated slamming the door on his face. “Thanks for noticing.” Came the dry reply.

Deidara suddenly found himself very much in Sasori’s camp and it wasn’t for the man who insisted they weren’t friends or even Sakura who he hardly had an opinion of. No, it was simply out of _spite_. Ever since he was 15 he’d despised the Uchiha. ‘That bastard, with just one look…’ In short he’d do just about anything to stick a needle in the eye of any one of them, metaphorical or otherwise.

"You."

Deidara's head turned to catch a glimpse of Sasori glaring at him from the end of the hall, quick paced steps eating the distance between them with threatening vigor and by the time he was moving he was already caught and being dragged down the steps by his hair. “I spilled it by accident, un!” He hadn’t. ‘But I had planned on being out of the house by the time he finished cleaning it up…’ Whatever Sasori had been making had eaten a hole right through the work table and then set about doing the same to the stone floor. ‘This is all the fault of the Uchiha.’ If he’d never heard them say that name he would have been out the window already.

“Does that happen a lot?” Sakura stared after them, cringing at every thud.

“Yes.”

‘Monosyllabic statements are apparently a thing in this household.’ That was nothing she wasn’t used to, the rosette sighed and refolded her pants, staring at them with a rather conflicted expression, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to throw them or cry. “No, things are not going great. Sasuke’s got about three months before the damage is irreversible but don’t misunderstand, I didn’t come here just because of Sasuke.” It was a part of it, not the sole motivating factor or even the major one. “I want a children’s hospital but before I can ever get funding for it I need more experience.” she quoted the word with her fingers. “The work I do here could go a long way in making that a reality and speaking not as a member of an allied village but as a friend; I am happy to do this for your village.” The less she spoke about Sasuke the lighter she felt.

Whenever she spoke about it there was always a fervent gleam in Sakura’s eyes, that hospital had been something she’d heard the leaf-kunoichi had speak about at least in passing multiple times over a few years, Ino often joining in as they tossed ideas about a facility that offered mental health services alongside the traditional physical treatments geared towards children and young teens.

Sakura wasn’t like Naruto who wholly believed that some utopian peace could somehow be instituted, she didn’t have that much faith in humanity even if she believed in him. She lived by the motto; hope for the best, prepare for the worst. _Maybe there will be another war in 10 years, or maybe it will be in 50, I don’t know when, but I do know I want to mitigate the damage it leaves behind however I can. Broken people seek to make the world reflect how they feel_ , Sakura had told her once and Temari knew there was truth to that.

‘When I was younger I probably would have laughed at how soft that sounds.’ Then again when Temari was a teen she’d giggled as Gaara crushed would-be Chūnin’s in his sand until they were nothing but pulp and red juice. Lives beyond her own, Kankurō’s, Sasori’s and even Gaara’s hadn’t mattered and depending on the day they hadn’t meant much either but as distant and cruel as they could be to one another in so many ways all they could depend on was one another. ‘I didn’t even cry about our own father’s death.’ She hadn’t known how to feel then and still didn’t, so she simply felt nothing about it. ‘No use in agonizing over a dead man.’ Whatever words she had would never reach him.

There was damage between them all that couldn’t be undone, though they all learned to cope the best they knew how, Gaara still had night terrors and barely slept, Kankurō had a new paramour almost every week, seeking constant affection that he could begin and end on his own terms. Sasori was... _Sasori_ , strange since birth and made worse by events he was too young for. ‘And then there is me desperately trying to make up for my failures as the oldest sibling, the one who allowed Gaara to be ostracized and never put her foot down.’ The one who had been incapable of empathy.

The Temari that she was now could understand the value of what Sakura wanted to create, a better future. “I know and I hope you find everything you want in your time with us.” She wasn’t touchy by nature, most of those inclinations had been drilled out of her not long after her mother died. It was hard, knowing when it was okay to reach out to others when the majority of her childhood had been spent learning that feelings were a burden and affection was a luxury only civilians and nobles could afford. The other Kunoichi didn’t flinch when Temari’s arms closed around her. “Thank you.” Sakura’s startled expression only lasted a few seconds before she returned the embrace.

There were a lot of reasons why Temari hoped Sasori was as skilled in wooing a particular heart as he was in cutting them out. Maybe she would have been far less interested in the outcome if it were someone else that he’d set his eyes on but in her opinion what her family needed was someone _exactly_ like Sakura. ‘Someone who is more or less normal, who isn’t all damaged and chipped.’ Someone to round out their sharp edges, who loved easily and didn’t scheme for power for the sole sake of having it. Ultimately Sakura was a person motivated by love in all that she did, which was about as far from her family's upbringing as it got.

“You’re welcome…” Sakura replied nibbling at her bottom lip worriedly, she wasn’t exactly sure what Temari had been thanking her for, she’d hardly done anything. The hug only lasted a few seconds and then the both of them were back to work, Temari clearly lost in thought as she moved on from the nail polish and began stacking books by color. ‘I’ll have to rearrange those later.’ It was the thought that counted and she was not going to complain that they should have been placed by subject.

Altruism wasn’t Temari’s only motivator, Kankurō was currently not content with one person and Gaara was more than happy with familial love and did not seek romantic entanglements; it was enough for him to finally have that and Temari didn’t see things changing anytime soon. ‘But Sasori does have an interest.’ And the sooner it came to fruition the better her own odds of the council allowing her to marry outside the village. ‘It's a win for everyone.’

Suna got the brightest Medc-nin the world had seen since Tsunade, her family got the emotional unit they desperately needed, she got peace of mind knowing they would be in good hands when she finally married Shikamaru. ‘And Sakura gets a guy who adores her so much he probably keeps a creepy shrine to her in his basement lair.’ Temari had not yet verified that assumption because she made a point to never go down there after what happened to Kankurō but it _sounded_ like something her cousin would do.

When the work was done, everything put in its place, or a close approximation to their more or less semi-permanent placement Temari decided to call it a day and made her own departure. Lunch came and it was after Deidara had to be all but thrown out of the house that Sakura wondered out loud. “What is the deal with you and that guy?”

“He’s an idiot and there is no deal.” Sasori groused as he arranged the placement of some garnish on the food he was plating. “He has no concept of art, he is loud and destructive for the sole purpose of being chaotic. Things that are ephemeral can be pleasant but the moment they are gone people forget. True art is something that makes an everlasting impression.” He glanced at her as he spoke the last bit, placing the meal on the table.

“I see.” Sakura didn’t disagree with the statement. “Although, there must be things that are short lived but still invoke deep, lasting responses in people…” She clasped her hands and uttered the traditional Itadakimasu before picking up her chopsticks.

“Yes,” He could think of a few things, but bombs and fireworks were not among them. As soon as the blast faded most people forgot all about the patterns they created and only had a vague construct within their mind of how they looked--if they lived through it and afterwards there was nothing but rubble and ash. Things with permanent shape and consistent form were far more memorable. “Like the trees you were named for,” There were none in Suna but they were distinctive whenever he saw them. “They bloom for a short period but they come back each year. So, while they are ever changing they are also the same, timeless.” Sasori appreciated how accurately her parents had named her in the same way his own had done for him.

There was something familiar in what he was saying, like she’d heard it before. ‘Wait.’ Sakura had heard it before, Sasori had more or less said the same thing when she had been in Sunagakure for Gaara’s inauguration, when he had felt up her face for the first time. ‘I must be misunderstanding something,’ She decided, picking at the vegetables on her plate. ‘ Because there is no way that he is comparing me to art, I mean why would he?’ She was about the least artistic person she could think of and the reasoning was completely lost on her.

Amused at the deeply thoughtful look that had overcome Sakura’s face, Sasori took a bite of marinated pork. ‘She’ll figure it out eventually.’ He wondered what expression she would make when it finally dawned on her. “You start work tomorrow.”

“Mhmm.” The meat tasted of five-spice. ‘I want to be able to cook too.’ Sakura cursed her mother for being a kitchen-dictator. ‘She acted like anytime I fried an egg it was an attempt at annexing her territory.’ But she wasn’t suddenly about to try her luck using Sasori’s kitchen as her proving ground...not yet anyways.

“Would you like me to take you?”

She choked on the next bite of food and fought to clear her throat. “No, that is very unnecessary. Not that I don’t appreciate it.” Sakura wasn’t sure why he was offering but if she walked in with a former Kage the staff would probably take it as her flexing metaphorical muscles and that was an awful way to start her job. ‘It would be like If I walked in, squirted lemon juice in their eyes and said look how special and important I am.’ They would hate her for showboating like that.

Sasori wondered if he ought to forewarn her that there would be a few people who were less than pleased that they were going to under the thumb of a foreign ninja, those who had yet to relinquish past grudges even when the alliance between Konoha and Suna had been ongoing for seven years, going on eight. ‘Even if I tell her it's unlikely to make her change her mind.’ Instead it would just make her fret needlessly about making a better impression then she needed too. ‘It doesn’t matter if they like her or not, so long as they are civil and obey.’ Sasori wouldn’t tolerate anything less. “As you wish.”

As it turned out it didn’t matter if Sakura walked into the hospital on her own or otherwise, the hospital director; Kuyamu, An older bespectacled woman who was somewhere around Tsunade’s age and the person she was meant to work most closely with despised her from the outset and it was more than apparent. ‘Ha! the jokes on you.’ she thought, watching as the older woman dropped another fat stack of files on her new desk with a thud. ‘Those unimpressed, scornful looks don’t even rank fifth on my scaling.’

Those rankings were rather fluid and depended on the day. The first time she met Sasori with his You’re-Not-Even-An-Amoeba-In-My-Eyes stare would have been at the top, followed by Tsunade whenever Sakura felt like she’d somehow come up lacking, especially in the early days of her apprenticeship. ‘And then there is my mom.’ She shuddered. Fourth would have been that guy who almost murdered her and fifth was Fugaku and his You’ll-Never-Be-Good-Enough-For-My-Family sneering as he looked down his nose at her.

Nope, Kuyamu wouldn’t rank on a list of ten the more Sakura thought about it. “Thanks.” She did her best to smile pleasantly because she was used to people disliking her for arbitrary reasons and she had learned quite a bit of diplomacy at Tsunade’s side. ‘My forehead is too big, My hair is pink, My parents are nobodies, I’m weak because I focus on preserving life wherever possible rather than ending it, I’m the useless one out of Team 7, I’m a carbon copy of Tsunade without the fun bits, blah blah blah.’ She’s heard it all.

Sakura’s office in Konoha had basically been a closet. “I’m pretty sure it was one at some point.’ She’d been lucky to have one at all when she frequently left for missions and it was the opinion of the upper levels of hospital management that she was too young for a leading position. The more suspicious part of Sakura was sure there were politics at play there too. ‘Because when aren’t they?’ It didn’t matter if the Senju were essentially extinct or that Sakura literally had no blood in the game, her close ties to Tsunade and the fact that she had no large family backing painted her as an easy target.

‘Not that I would ever complain.’ What Sakura believed in more than anything was proving herself through hard work and steadfast dedication, that was how she had achieved everything else in her life and it was going to be the same in Suna.

“The Kazekage himself has assured me you are more than capable, therefore I’m sure familiarizing yourself with this material shouldn’t take you more then a week.” Kuyamu adjusted her glasses and the glare bouncing off them made Sakura flinch. “After you’ve finished I will introduce you to the department heads and you can begin your...queries.”

Green eyes glanced back down, somewhere beneath the folders, binders and papers there was a desk in front of her. “Right,” It was a lot to do within a week, but Kuyamu was mistaken if she thought Sakura couldn’t get it done in the allotted time. A complete overhaul of Suna’s hospital meant she needed to start with reviewing what was currently in implementation, from financials, protocols, equipment and personnel in an attempt to forecast what was needed so that a new budget for the expenses could be calculated. Tsunade was right to say that it would be good practical experience for what Sakura wanted. ‘And then I have those courses to teach…’ In all it was going to be a very full year.

There was a clatter across the room as the young Chūnin who had volunteered to be her assistant dropped some of the books Kuyamu had directed her to carry. Hakka, with her wide blue-grey eyes was the exact opposite of the older woman, she blushed and stuttered every time Sakura addressed her. ‘And every time I try to make eye contact she looks away…’ It was weird.

“S-sorry, Haruno-sama.”

“Just Sakura is fine.” But she’d already said that about six times, to which Hakka had practically turned purple in the face as she stuttered about how she couldn’t possibly be so disrespectful. “Or even Sakura-san.” She wasn’t used to being referred to so formally. ‘I’m only like...6 years older.’ Flipping open one of the binders Sakura set to work on reading Suna’s clinical guidelines.

Kuyamu sighed, fingers pressed to her temples. “This display is pathetic, show some pride as a Suna-nin and stop fawning all over her!” She snapped at the Chūnin.

“B-but she’s Haruno Sakura.” Hakka whined.

‘Wait, wait.’ Sakura recognized that tone of voice, it was the same way younger kids talked about the Hokage, or Naruto, Sasuke and even Kakashi. A hint of reverence and awe for a childhood hero but she’d never once heard anyone say her name like that. The realization that she apparently had a fangirl of all things hit her like a thousand mini-Katsuyu raining down from the sky. “Huh.” _New_ didn’t begin to cover it.

By Wednesday Sakura was a little over half through the review process and that was only because everytime she left the office she was sure someone kept sneaking in to add nonsense to the pile but she took a break to attend family dinner as she’d promised. ‘I’ll just come back later and pull an all nighter.’ It wasn’t a big deal and she was eager to watch the look of defeat wash over Kuyamu’s snide face.

‘Thinking I’d lose to a bunch of paper,’ She humphed derisively, hands on her hips as she stood outside Chiyo and Ebizō’s door. ‘If she only knew how many medical texts I had to memorize and summarize in a two year period…’ All while Tsunade played human-whack-a-mole with her. Before Sakura could knock the door flew open on its own. ‘Puppet-Masters and their sneaky, tricky strings.’ Lately she had been getting a little too used to things moving on their own. ‘Papers, utensils, doors….my own damn body.’ She was going to have to find a way to circumvent that last bit.

“Oh my, You’re a bit earlier than expected.” Chiyo tutted, peeking around a corner. “You’re the first one here, so just have a seat in the living room.”

Truthfully Sakura had left work a little early because as adorable as Hakka’s idolization turned out to be, it was also exhausting. “As long as you’re not asking me to cook I can help…Even I can chop vegetables and whatever else.” Sakura offered, placing her shoes by the door before entering the house proper.

“Perhaps another night dear.” The old woman shooed her in the correct direction.

There was a photo album laid open on the coffee table and Sakura didn’t feel nosy at all glancing through it. It was laid out chronologically and she had to assume that the sleek, dark haired woman with a familiar face and the broad shouldered man besides her were Sasori’s parents based on their features. ‘His mom’s frame and face, his dad’s hair and eyes…’ She wondered whose personality he had gotten. She made a cooing noise as she turned the page and caught glimpses of a newborn, skin pink and wrinkly. There was a noise from the entrance and she glanced up, squishing the book against her chest guiltily.

Gaara blinked back at her from the entrance. “I see you found the album.” Collectively, their family didn’t have many photos from their childhood. After Sasori’s parents had died catching him in one became exceedingly rare and were often blurry. There were some of Kankurō and Temari before their mother had passed giving him life but there were barely any of him until after the Chūnin exams.

“Super adorable.” Sakura just about sang the words, flicking the pages open to what was probably the only picture of Gaara smiling ear to ear, holding some teddy bear Yashamaru had given to him when he was three.

Cheeks and ears pinkening Gaara turned away, unable to think of a time someone had referred to him as such.

Kankurō, a few moments later, made a scandalized noise when he saw her with the album. “Oh no!” He turned to flee the room.

“Wait, no! I wanted to ask about the dolls!” Sakura called after him. Honestly, they were all disgustingly photogenic as kids.

“Those dolls were mine and he stole them.” Temari scowled and caught the escapee by the arm, shoving him into a seat as she unstrapped her fan and leaned it against the wall. “Which is fine because I never wanted them anyway. I wanted a weasel that I could teach to bite people.” But apparently that wasn’t an acceptable 3rd birthday gift.

“Someday there will be payback for this.” Kankurō vowed.

“Good luck getting any of my photos from Konoha.” Sakura might have been enjoying the situation a little too much. She caught sight of Sasori stalking through the hall and couldn’t help herself. “Hey!” A grin worked its way over her face as Sasori turned slowly, eyes narrowing in on the book she held.

“You were pretty cute as a kid.” Sakura teased, pointing to the picture of him at the age of four, without a care his young self was stuffing his face with a baozi that was probably bigger than his head. The image was taken before he’d had a real concept of death and loss, when the idea that one wrong move or poor choice could bring life to a halt wasn’t even a consideration. It was before Sasori realized how different his thoughts were compared to most people. That age was far too early to contemplate meta-ethics and moral semantics, even for him.

“Of course I was.” And while Sasori couldn't be classified as cute anymore, his looks had not taken a dive with increased age.

Pouting at her failed attempts at flustering him, Sakura huffed. “At least pretend to have some humility for the sake of us who were ugly as children!”

Dropping onto the couch beside her after a few quick strides, Sasori had her by the chin in a flash, tilting her face up to the light as he scrutinized her in front of everyone. “Based on bone structure there is no way you were ugly as a child.” He’d been wanting to touch her for the last few days and she’d given him another excuse.

“I had hair like a sheepdog!” Mostly by choice in a vain attempt to hide her forehead. “And facial features change over time.” Sakura tried to get a glimpse of The Sand Siblings--to see if maybe what he was doing was perfectly normal for him but found she couldn’t turn her face away. If she had been able to she would have seen the wide eyed expressions the three of them were looking on with.

Shocked would be a vast understatement. ‘It's one thing to know of his interest, it's another to _see_ it.’ Gaara thought. To him it was so forward Sasori might as well have been kissing her in plain sight but then again he wasn’t particularly experienced with relationships. He’d only ever seen Temari and Shikamaru hold hands and that was all he ever wanted to see out of the two of them.

Kankurō’s mouth hung open long enough that Temari reached out and shut it for him. ‘It was weird when he started asking about her in roundabout ways, snooped through the letters she and grandma wrote back and forth for years under the excuse that it was for village security and dropped whatever he was doing whenever he heard she was going to be around, but this is so much _worse_.’ The eldest of the three thought. Sasori hated touching other people. ‘Or rather, other _living_ people.’ She didn’t know what was up with that and didn’t want to know.

“Pictures or I don’t believe it.” Sasori insisted, pinching her cheeks. ‘To think you thought you were going to embarrass me. Impossible.’ To be embarrassed one had to have a sense of shame and if he possessed it, he’d yet to experience the feeling. ‘How quickly the tables turn...’

“Fine! I’ll write home and tell them to send the family album.” Sakura’s cheeks puffed in aggravation, unsure if the blush was from anger or him putting his hands on her again, maybe it was both. ‘Artists are weird.’ She reminded herself as her arms crossed defiantly.

It was the faint curve to Sasori’s lips that had Kankurō choking and gasping for air. ‘Oh gods above, he’s smiling!’ He felt like he was going to throw up.

“See that you do, Little Girl.” Because really, it was only fair play that Sasori got to look at her in her youth too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baozi are steamed buns and they come in a variety of flavors from sweet to Savory.
> 
> Some ages since I was calculating it all out;
> 
> Chiyo:70  
> Ebizō:69  
> Sasori: 30  
> Temari: 25  
> Kankurō: 24  
> Gaara: 23  
> Sakura: 23
> 
> Happy Birthday again FireThatFox! Hopefully this is actually a little early lmao despite me taking forever. Sorry for the long break on updates, wrote a oneshot and then went straight into this. They should be posted around the same time, so it's like a double feature!
> 
> On that note I’m really bad, I basically shut down when I am in the middle of writing. I don’t read, I barely reply to comments until I’ve hit a satisfactory point and I almost drop off the face of the earth excluding rare appearances on Discord...I am willing to share those deets if you’re like “I want to talk more about Sasosaku.” and “I just want to tell you, your writing is garbage and your views on these characters is wrong, ktnks.”
> 
> In Spring Fever Temari is more or less a spazz case thanks to post pregnancy hormones and parts of this chapter are me writing her seriously or rather semi-seriously because almost all of my writing is “Somewhat serious”. Turning Crimson is about Serial Killers and I still manage to sneak in points of humor which probably tells you a lot about who I am as a person...
> 
> Honestly, to people in Suna and specifically the Kazekage family Sakura is like a Saint. By 8 Sasori was just walking through a war destroying people, by what, 5? Gaara murdered his uncle Yashamaru, probably some random villagers and by 12/13 he was just killing whoever he was allowed to, Temari could laugh and giggle about it and Kankurō while creeped out just kinda shrugged it off and also had no issues killing people and threatening small children.
> 
> Sakura, if you’re just going by Manga (because I despise the anime and the massive amounts of filler I refuse to watch to this day.) Kills when there is no other option afforded to her and she does not take delight in it. Her original plan wasn’t even to Kill Sasori, she wanted to beat the shit out of him and probably detain him for Suna or whoever to deal with until he told her what she wanted to know and things escalated. After he’s dead her response is more or less; “It's nice to be alive but WTF just happened and why…?” But to be fair that would also be my response after I met a guy who turned himself into a puppet and whose last words were basically a creepy flirtation.
> 
> The only time we see her actively seeking out a person to kill is Sasuke and that is a “For the Greater Good.” the desperation move which she inevitably falters in.
> 
> There will be time skips, because like Sasori I have zero patience. Stealth edits after posting is my M.O.


	4. Hey Diddle Diddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avoiding one problem leads to an even bigger one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to Devil Take The Hindmost
> 
> Part one of a Super late Christmas Gift to FireThatFox. I'M SORRY ITS SO LATE I AM BUT A LOWLY WORM.

June had turned to July and it was not until the middle of the new month that Sakura realized that somewhere in the flurry of travel and settling in Sasuke’s birthday had been completely forgotten. The fact that it had slipped her mind had been surprising, she’d had that date memorized since she learned it in academy. ‘Well, so did Ino and every other girl in our class.’ But in general she was usually very good at keeping track of birthdays. ‘I’ve been busy and even if I  _ had _ remembered, what would it matter?’ She was angry at him and he was  _ who-knew-where _ . ‘So there.’ She thought, ripping off a series of days from her desk calendar in one go.   
  
Going through the guidelines and protocols had been a mind-numbing,  _ boring _ sort of busy but she had finished sooner than Kuyamu anticipated.  _ If  _ Sakura had been expecting a pat on the back, she would have been disappointed but receiving very little fanfare was something she was accustomed to and to say she hadn’t received  _ any  _ self-satisfaction when the bespectacled women received the revisions sooner than expected would have been a lie. The confused, googly-eyed gaze had left Sakura giggling into her desk as soon as she was alone. ‘She’s not all bad.’ But the director was no nonsense as befitted her role in making things run smoothly and she couldn’t be expected to have much faith in a stranger from the get-go.   
  
Sakura had known from before she walked through the hospital doors that there would be those who wouldn’t appreciate her.. _.meddling _ as a rather aged man from the clinic-side had mumbled under his breath. ‘Aguri is either really rough looking or he’s  _ almost _ as...mature as Granny Chiyo.’ Which was fine, old people didn’t stop being useful just because they were over 60--no matter  _ what _ Sasori said.    
  
“ _ Just be glad all he did was call you a Konoha-dog under his breath.”  _ Temari had said upon hearing Sakura’s complaints. “ _ He was our assigned doctor up until our teens--well, not Gaara’s. I guess he lucked out on that one, Sasori gave him all his shots. “ _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Dog _ was the modestly censored version of what Sakura had actually been referred to as but it in the interest of professionalism and inter-village relations she’d more or less let it go. ‘He’s like 70, what am I going to do? Beat him up? Scare him?’ He might have a heart attack and die if she so much as wiggled a pinky at him. ‘Then again he might be an absolute ace like Granny Chiyo.’ Still, she’d decided it was better to just let it go even if the old man practically growled at her whenever they passed each other by. ‘That's apparently his default personality anyways.’ So she tried not to take offense, repeating in her head the importance of respecting one's elders. ‘Even if they are grouchy old bastards.’    
_  
_ _ “It always felt like that guy was going for the bone too.”  _ Kankurō had mumbled through a mouthful of soba noodles. “ _ I mean sure, we’re trained to have a high tolerance for pain but a little delicacy would have been appreciated.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “If being unwillingly rendered unconscious is a new synonym for lucky; yes.”  _ Gaara had said, all while turning the centerpiece consisting of several miniature cacti a few degrees to the left.   
  
Naturally Sakura’s eyes had slid over to Sasori--she knew that between the unruly beast Gaara’s body had become prison to and the sand shield even routine medical care in his youth had been difficult. Which left her wondering what they did when Gaara needed to go to the dentist. ‘Or maybe being a Jinchuuriki comes with the benefit of perfect teeth.’  _  
_ _  
_ _ “At least he was always punctual _ .” Sasori had said, glancing up from the clump of seaweed between his chopsticks that he’d been studying for a good, long moment. “ _ Whatever needed to be done medically was done under sedation and my direct supervision...Including his rabies vaccination.”  _ Sakura got the feeling he thought he’d done the public a great service on that one. “ _ You’d think he’d be thankful for the little sleep I ensured he got but all he ever does is complain.” _ _  
_   
“ _ Easy for you to say, you got granny to sign off on all your physicals even after she retired.”  _ Temari had sniped. “ _ Cheater.” _   
  
“ _ It's hardly my fault that you weren’t smart enough to do the same _ .  _ It's not like Rasa would have cared enough to look at the records, you could have been infectious and dying of tuberculosis but he still would have sent all three of you out into the field.”  _ Sasori sneered faintly, though whether it was at his cousin or the green mass on his chopsticks Sakura just couldn’t tell even as he finally deigned to eat it, expression enduringly flat with every chew.    
  
Apparently Rasa had cared as little for investing in public health as he did for ensuring the safety and comfort of his family. ‘Well, at least he was consistent.’ Sakura thought. Suna had a smaller population than Konoha and until recently they hadn’t exactly had the funds to update much of anything, which apparently included staff. There were not that many departments and most individuals ended up fulfilling multiple roles, Pharmacy was also in charge of the greenhouse and making sure the hospital was stocked with the supplies that it needed to operate. Pediatrics was basically non-existent because the prevailing opinion among them was that  _ children  _ were just tiny adults. ‘Which explains a lot about certain people.’ 

‘The Maternity department isn’t much better.’ Sakura had cringed when she caught sight of the infant and maternal mortality rates. 'They're somewhat improved compared to 10 or even 20 years ago…' But they still weren't great. The bare facts were that there were plenty of problems she couldn’t snap her fingers and fix instantly. What Suna needed in addition to updated techniques and procedures was more skilled hands at work and that took more than a year to cultivate. 'But I _can_ get a start on it..’ She thought, briefly tapping a pen against her desk before pushing her chair back.  
  
The classes she taught in addition to the rest of her duties were far from the self study and volatile exams Tsunade put her through. To start with the sessions were held in an actual classroom and ranged from introductory material for academy students and aspiring genin’s to more advanced training for those who already had the basics down. ‘I’m also not in charge of teaching them to fight.’ She found it for the best, because while the vast majority of the attendees were polite and focused on learning there always seemed to be one or two who were more interested in kicking up a fuss. ‘Which makes me want to kick them.’  
  
Sakura was too young to remember the last war and despite having lost both sets of grandparents during its peak she felt detached from the event beyond a historical acknowledgement and her mothers occasional barbed quips about other villages. A little deductive reasoning was still all it took to pick up on basic patterns--the older a person was the higher the probability climbed that their aloof, suspicious and sometimes down right rude behavior didn’t have anything to do with her personally, but where she’d come from. ‘Holding grudges is a way of life out here.’ Or so Ebizō had told her. ‘Then there is also the third theory…’ Which proclaimed that Suna’s culture simply encouraged _sourness_ to outsiders no matter where they came from and even to one another.  
  
As with all things there were _exceptions_ to the rule and as Sakura dodged an incoming medicine cart she caught sight of a prime example; Hakka, with her bright blue-grey eyes practically skipped wherever she went. It was not _dislike_ that that made Sakura use the binder she’d been carrying to shield her face--not that it would have helped much considering that her habit of wearing red made her highly noticeable among the blacks, tans and other neutral colors popular in Suna.  
  
There was nothing wrong with Hakka. She was polite and dedicated to her work--maybe a bit too zealous about it if Sakura were being honest. The side step into another hall had come a bit too late, Hakka had noticed her and Sakura didn’t need to look to know that the younger girl’s eyes were practically glittering stars.   
  
No, Sakura ran away because she didn’t know _how_ to respond to idolization in high doses, sure it’d been a week or two but she still wasn’t used to it. After her awkward shuffle-turn into the hallway she could only blink dumbly as she narrowly avoided snubbing her nose against Sasori, binder still held aloft like a useless, paper shield. “Uh…”   
  
“Sakura-sama!” Hakka’s voice was distant but that didn’t mean it would stay that way.  
  
Making the quick decision that the inquisitive arch of her housemate’s brows would have to wait, glancing around Sakura caught sight of an ajar closet and off she went, ducking into what she would later term a hospital and more importantly _personal_ liability. The closet was not a very large space and when she’d darted in she had not expected to be followed. It was meant for housing bleached and sterilized linen and not much else which meant that the sudden addition of two bodies did not make it any roomier on the inside than it had previously been.  
  
Amidst the jostling that ensued when Sakura turned to face her secondary pursuer, her chest and hip knocked against Sasori, pressing his back into the door. “Ah, you!” She sputtered, the sound of the latch clicking shut unnoticed for the time being. “What are you doing?”   
  
“At this particular moment in time?” Sasori’s head cocked to the side. “Trying to figure out what _you_ are--” Her fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. They were close enough that he could feel the way she went as far to hold her breath, his own acute senses torn between paying attention to the warm form pressed against his own and whatever it was beyond the door that had her so frazzled.   
  
“I could have sworn I saw her come this way...” Hakka didn’t bother with idling in the hallway. ‘I can just hand over the keys in class.’ Kuyamu had finally deemed Sakura trustworthy enough to be bequeathed with her own set after a week or more of suspicious squinting. ‘It's no wonder her eyesight is so bad, it can’t be healthy to make that face all the time.’ She thought, hurrying her way along.   
  
A moment went by and Sakura’s fingers dropped, brushing against his collar as she finally took a breath. The disappointed muttering that had passed them by was familiar to him, putting a pause in his considerations on whether the current circumstances were a blessing or a vexation. “You ran away from your assistant?” More worrying to Sasori was that he had personally chosen Hakka and he didn’t like thinking he’d made a mistake.   
  
Beneath the dim, swinging light Sakura practically looked as if she’d been struck. “I am not running away!” She hemmed and scoffed. “I’m just…” Her eyes darted around the enclosed space. “...examining supply closets on my way to class! Very important, making sure they’re in tip-top shape.” She said, cracking open her binder and plucking the pen from behind her ear to make a completely pointless mark on her class notes.   
  
“Ah yes, it simply wouldn’t do for one patient to get a white sheet and another to get a less white one even though they’re all sterilized in the same machine and made of the same scratchy material.” Sasori found that as much as he wanted to enjoy their close proximity, she was making it difficult. The more she moved the more her elbow jabbed into his chest as she fussed around with her paper and pen, making a big show of looking around. “Sakura…” He watched with vague amusement as her arms abruptly dropped like limp noodles at the utterance. “You _could_ save us both some time by being honest about the actual issue you’re having rather than fabricating completely transparent, _ridiculous_ ones.”   
  
The usage of Sakura’s name made her swallow nervously as she recalled a rather embarrassing incident from the week before. ‘I cannot be held accountable for semi-conscious sniffing.’ And she had absolutely _not_ attempted to snuggle him in the process. ‘Nope, never happened.’ She waved her hand and wiped it from memory once more. “My mother would say that there is _nothing_ ridiculous about well ordered closets...” Sakura mumbled, though she hadn’t exactly employed that practical lesson in her own housekeeping.   
  
If the gleam of his eyes could be judged Sasori was at least moderately amused with _her_ of all people extolling the virtues of organized spaces. ‘I drop so much as a shoe sideways by the door, I come back 5 minutes later and its sole side down.’ Which might have been annoying but he didn’t nag her--he just did it without complaint unlike _someone_ she’d known her whole life. ’Now if only he’d stop moving my papers and books around.’ She’d caught him doing that more than once whether it was in her office or his place but as far as Sakura was concerned _anything_ else was fair game.  
  
“You’re hiding in a closet...” From someone she could reduce to goo with minimal effort. ‘Or even a particularly scathing word.’ He recalled that the girl’s bones practically chattered as she shook during his interview with her. It reminded him of one of those small, nervous dogs popular with noble ladies. “If she were careless or ill suited to the job you would have gotten rid of her or whipped her into shape by now.” Sasori theorized as he made himself comfortable against the door. “Which really leaves only one option; annoying. “ He’d been very thorough when going through the applicants and his choice _should_ have been a success.  
  
‘I thought she would appreciate someone _personable_.’ But Sasori hadn’t picked her for that alone, Hakka knew her way around the hospital and by Suna standards she wasn’t _inept_ in her chosen field. Entering, much less approaching the ranks of Sakura or even his grandmother’s skills would be long coming to her if it ever did. ‘Even I outpace her.’ Though his area of expertise centered on _debilitating_ rather than rehabilitating a patient’s condition. ‘One could argue my human puppets are just improved versions of who they used to be.’ But like the number of those he had created, very few people would agree with that view.   
  
“I take it there were no interesting cases in the morgue today so you’ve decided to poke and prod the living instead.” Sakura pouted, head snapping up when the light overhead hummed and flickered. ‘That can’t be good.’ All of Sasori’s smile’s seemed mystifying to her whether they were the half-formed tilts or mocking twists, as though there was some secret lurking in the corner of his lips that she couldn’t quite decipher. “I’m not hiding, I’m...taking a _respite_.” there was no point in insisting she was simply examining closets for defects when he'd already called her on it.

  
Word choices had meaning and Sasori seized on hers. “People typically take  _ respites,"  _ His teeth flashed, sneering at the pronunciation.  _ ‘" _ From unpleasant tasks or  _ people _ ." He would know having spent a good portion of his time trying to avoid both. "If she bothers you so much just get rid of her.” Or he  _ would _ . "It's really that simple."   
  
“Except that it  _ isn’t _ .” The binder was shut and tucked under her arm once more.   
  
There was barely a beat in between her correction and his reply. “Explain.”    
  
“Funny, that didn’t  _ sound _ like a  _ question  _ but to begin with  _ you  _ failed from the start in assuming Hakka has done something wrong, she  _ hasn’t _ .’ If Sasori took offense to being associated with the concept of failure he didn’t show it and Sakura continued on. “The few mistakes she’s made were promptly corrected.” She was beginning to think that there wasn’t much that  _ could _ upset the Chūnin. ‘It's not  _ quite _ Lee’s level exuberance but it's pretty up there. I guess that makes it astronomical by Suna standards or something.’    
  
Sasori’s posture was deceitfully languid as he stretched out a leg, foot snaking between her ankles. The simple movement made the space feel all the smaller and Sakura paused just briefly to glance down at the floor and then back to him. It would have been a mistake to think he was uninterested, or inattentive due to silence alone, not when he stared straight at her. ‘Well, there isn’t much else to look at in here.’ Sakura thought, her own gaze skittering up a nearby shelf. When she turned her attention back he was still looking, the only motion to be seen on his face was the occasional blink that demonstrated his living status.    
  
If Sakura were another species of mammal she might have thought the prolonged staring was an act of aggression or some weird play at dominance. ‘Knowing him It still might be.’ She narrowed her eyes at him as the thought fluttered through her head. ‘I can stare too.’ But Sasori only turned his head like a curious animal. They spent a good moment doing that before Sakura relented and blinked. ‘He wins this round.’ And she hoped he suffered from dry-eyed victory too.   
  
Lips pursed, Sakura proceeded to pick back up on what she’d been saying. “...Things are done when they are supposed to be done, she knows everyone in this place and has no trouble locating whatever obscure material I send her for, or rerouting some angry staff member I don’t want to deal with in the moment.” Which there were way more of than she’d like but there was nothing to be done about that. “And coffee…” She heaved a wishful sigh as the thought crossed her mind. “She’s  _ really  _ good at that--all while maintaining the top spot in the advanced course...”    
  
“You’re in a closet because she’s perfect, sounds  _ completely _ sensible.” He said in utter monotone but it was the lazy circling of Sasori’s index finger around their confined backdrop that sold the sarcasm.    
  
All that served to do was agitate Sakura. “I’m not hiding,” She insisted once more, foot tapping once or twice because while he _ hadn’t  _ said it a second time she got the feeling he was thinking it. “And I don’t dislike her. It's just...it feels like she wants to throw flower petals and bow wherever I walk--which by the way is no longer limited to the hospital.” At their first meeting Hakka had barely been able to speak without stuttering but the more time they spent together the more comfortable her assistant got. ‘Just the other day she followed me from the library and then invited herself along for anmitsu.’ Hakka’s mouth peppered questions faster than some shinobi could fling senbon. “Don’t get me wrong it's kind of cute but I haven’t really done anything to earn that.”    
  
“To echo your earlier turn of phrase;  _ You failed from the start _ ,” Sakura was not enthused to have her own words thrown back at her but Sasori paid little mind to the scowl he was faced with. “In assuming _ that _ nonsense. There is no reason why she  _ shouldn’t _ admire you,” He corrected. It was well known in Suna that she’d done at 15 what most people, including himself had thought impossible and her follow up involvement in Gaara's rescue had only taken her reputation a pace further. ‘He’s surprisingly popular given his past predilections.’    
  
Congeniality was  _ not _ what kept their family in power as evidenced by basically every person who had ever been Kazekage. Gaara was capable and currently mentally stable but no one was  _ ever  _ going to call him the Prince of Charm. 'Unless they're being facetious or fondly remembering that rock they had as a child.’ Pet rocks were  _ also _ very popular among children in Suna and the similarities, in Sasori’s opinion, were  _ striking _ . “If her liking you is a burden, just condition her to fear you instead. It worked on Kankurō.”    
  
Sakura hands found their way to her hips as they tended to do when she was on the verge of getting feisty. “Yes, I’m sure stuffing scorpions into an 8 year old’s pillow case worked  _ wonders _ .” And that was just one of the many things Sasori had done to terrorize the trio.   
  
“Ah, but he stopped trying to spend the night after that.” Sasori pointed out, wondering if Gaara had failed to make sure the facility had enough money for new light bulbs, the one overhead kept giving a prolonged sputter and he was sure that the meager light it provided was not long for the world. “I didn’t even use the really venomous ones.” Still, Kankurō  _ had _ broken out into waves of blotchy hives for several days. ‘Pity that a few years after that I got stuck with all three of them.’ Which meant there had been many unwanted sleepovers, often in the wilderness during which Gaara worked on perfecting his rock impersonation as he stared at the moon in its various stages.

  
Clearly unimpressed with the restraint he’d exhibited in his youth, Sakura simply shook her head. “I’m sure _you_ think that was very kind of _you_ ," But she was _not_ about to give him a gold star for _not_ killing his cousin. "I’m not going to be mean to her just so that I feel more _comfortable_. That would be wrong. I just have to...acclimate--” She had not yet given up hope that Hakka’s enthusiasm would level out along the way but the watch ticking at his wrist grabbed her attention and her face went pale. “Is that the time?”  
  
Sasori didn’t get a chance to reply with the obvious answer, which would have been that there was no way he would wear a timepiece with the incorrect time; His spine and muscles were too busy seizing as her arm brushed against his side, seeking the doorknob. The reflexive twitch only lasted for a second, unnoticed by Sakura as the horrifying truth dawned on her.   
  
“The door is locked!” Sakura hissed against his neck, having crowded closer in an attempt to shimmy her only exit open. “Why?!” Her hip pressed him further against it.   
  
Finding that the current situation more than suited his desires, Sasori gave an unconcerned shrug. “Most people lock things up to prevent theft.” Another lesson that Uchiha of her’s would have done well to learn. Her cheek brushed against his neck and shoulder as she rattled the door beneath his back.  
  
“What kind of scum steals hospital blankets? That's all that's in here and they’re not even that great!” They were always so small and drafty that she didn’t see why anyone would want to nick them that they had to be kept under lock and key. Sakura gave an incredulous huff, warm breath wisping past his ear and fluttering a tuft of hair in the process.   
  
“No doubt the same kind who help themselves to all cotton balls and gauze they can fit in their pockets.” The fact that he had to waste his time going over reports detailing missing items infuriated Sasori more than the actual stolen materials did. ‘20 years ago if someone’s hand got caught in a jar that didn’t belong to them they were liable to lose it--fitting practice for a village where being successfully stealthy makes the difference between life and death.’ At some point the closet had probably been used to house items other than linen but it was just as likely that when Suna’s economy had been at its lowest anything that could be nailed down or locked up had been.   
  
Sakura quickly realized that no matter which way or how much she turned the knob it was a useless endeavor. “I’m going to be late, I’ve never been late in my entire life!” Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip nervously, eyes turned towards Sasori imploringly. ‘What if I become like Kakashi-Sensei after this and I never show up on time again?’ She’d accepted it as a quirk of an eccentric teacher but she certainly didn’t want to emulate him, a late doctor or medic was about as useful as not having one at all. ‘Not to mention it’s just plain rude! Think of all the times I could have slept in or taken an extra ten minutes to eat breakfast and all the times I had to skip drying my hair...’ The humidity in Konoha always made it want to wave at mid length, she hated that.  
  
Sasori stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Break it.” Before the words even left his mouth he was almost certain she’d reject the suggestion and he doubted that she’d equipped the civilian wear she’d taken to wearing most days of the week with a multi-tool or even a basic lockpick. ‘Not that she has much use for them in most cases.’ As long as a subtle approach wasn’t required if Sakura wanted to get through a door or a wall her hands would do the trick just fine.  
  
“Your advice is the _worst_.” It was not lost on Sakura that her tone had taken on a keening whine. “Be mean! Commit destruction of property in a foreign village! Do you _want_ a war to break out?” It was the exact sort of scenario someone would blow out of proportion so they could point and sneer at her mess up. ‘I can just see it now...Konohagakure Kunoichi assaults a house of the injured and ill, all for war on Wednesday say; Aye.’ She didn’t want that to be her legacy. ‘And if Fugaku-san _ever_ heard about it…’ He already thought that she was _tacky,_ the last thing she needed was for him to amend the thought to trashy.   
  
Sasori found the probability of that low considering they’d yet to declare war on Iwagakure and Deidara had blown up 12 mailboxes, one per month in the last year alone. Apparently the iwa-nin liked to watch the paper in them go fluttering in the wind, scraps set ablaze. He found it _calming_ , of all things but as long as it wasn’t his mailbox or more importantly _Chiyo’s,_ Sasori was not inclined to care. “I propose an alternative theory; I give perfectly good advice and if you just followed it all your problems would be solved.”  
  
“I’m not breaking the door!” Sakura had fisted her hands into his shirt and was tugging anxiously at the snug material. ‘What if after this I not only become chronically late but I start picking up other bad habits from my seniors!? I’ll start drinking and gambling, making scary faces at kids like Yamato-sensei…’ She supposed the last one wouldn’t be too awful. ‘And I can’t hold my liquor at all!’ At least not without metabolically cheating, Tsunade had laughingly called her a disgrace.   
  
Knowing that the fabric she was currently abusing would be no worse for wear, Sasori simply raised his chin towards the ceiling to conceal the expression of infernal glee that occasionally overtook him. “Then I suppose you’ll just be late, what a pity.” His tone did not sound in any way, shape or form _sympathetic_ but that was perfectly normal for him.   
  
Sakura’s foot had started to tap which meant that her temper was climbing higher. “ _Sa-so-ri…_ ” It was odd to her that any other time he was militant about being punctual. He expected it from himself and from others and yet there he was being thoroughly unhelpful in keeping her from committing what he probably viewed as a sin. ‘Am I being punished? I haven’t even done anything to him!’ Yet. ‘Sure I showed up late to dinner a few times but I more or less stopped.’ _After_ he’d chided on the night he brought her dinner.   
  
Sasori’s gaze slunk back down, finding that he liked the sound of his name falling from her lips piecemeal. Curiously, he noted that her foot tapping had stopped. ‘Either a good sign or a bad omen.’ There was a split second where the knit between her brows eased and he could imagine the neurons in her brain crying “ _aha!”_ as her eyes went bright and wide. It was adorable.   
  
In the memory Sakura had recently tried to consign to the blackhole designated for the worst and most cringe worthy events of her life a solution to her entrapment was found. ‘And I’m looking at him.’ She thought, smiling all too sweetly. Sai would have shuddered to see it knowing all too well the potential devastation lurking behind it. “ _You,”_ She said, stabbing a finger deadcenter into his manubrium. “Can unlock it.” He’d unlatched the window that night with chakra threads and she’d seen him move and manipulate much more, including her own body. ‘I’m sure the tumblers of a lock are no match for you and,” She wiggled her fingers at him, miming the motions of puppetry. “Your skills. So come on, do it!”   
  
“If you were to do,” He mocked her hand movements perfectly. “ _This_ while puppeting you’d probably end up killing yourself.” Playing on his ego wasn’t going to move him. “And I fail to see how that would benefit me.” Omitting the fact that Sasori liked where he was, she hadn’t even said _please_.   
  
Finding that threatening a former Kage with violence seemed ill advised, Sakura sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. “I’d like to think that getting _out_ of the closet would be all the motivation you need.” Then, considering his puppet armor she decided that maybe he _liked_ dark, enclosed spaces. “But if that's not enough here's what _will_ happen if you _don’t_ do it. I’ll be late, I’ll turn to the dark side. One morning you’ll wake to find something horribly amiss; All your dishes and spoons will be gone! You’ll think to yourself; _have they all run away together? Are cows now jumping over the moon? Is there a cat playing a fiddle somewhere in places unknown?_ But nay! it will have been _me_ , your new arch nemesis.” She pointed a mint colored nail at her perfectly solemn expression, “You see this face? I mean it.”  
  
Sasori did not look as horrified at the prospect of missing dishware as Sakura would have liked. “I’m sure it's the little dog laughing that would take the entire thing too far.” He quipped.  
  
The plain, unabashed amusement she saw in the cat-like curve of his lips threatened to throw her off course. “Do you think I’ll stop with the dishes and spoons?” Sakura shook her head wildly. “ _No!_ I’ll take your socks, I’ll unmatch--” She had to go further. ”I will _throw_ one half of _every_ pair away! Maybe I’ll give them to Deidara and tell him they’re a token of your friendship.” The long list of nuisances she’d planned to mount against him day by day until he was driven to the edge of reason ended when Sasori grabbed her by both wrists, startling her into dropping the binder somewhere among their feet.   
  
Mere seconds ticked by as the room whirled, reduced to a series of snapshots beneath the blinking light. Sasori’s movements were always agile and though she seldom saw him move in haste she shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. What confused Sakura was how her limbs froze and locked, insides pulling the same strange loops that accompanied a dive. It was within that surreal lull that she recalled the advice Tsunade had given her at the start of her training; _Don’t look away. In the time it takes to flinch everything can change._ ‘Hell, I didn’t even blink and here I am.’ She thought, feeling that the door was now at her back. His hands hadn’t kept hold of her, one dropped from sight and the other was braced somewhere by her ear.  
  
Unmatched socks _were_ garish, he’d never once lowered his standards enough to wear them nor did he foresee such an event happening at any point in the future. All of the socks he owned were exactly the same to begin with; black, but Sasori decided he just didn’t have the _heart_ of all things to crush her diabolic little dreams. She _was_ trying her best. “Spare me your horrors, I just don’t think I could bear them.” Sasori’s voice breezed over her ear, feeling the faint tremor that ran through her in its wake. ‘Turnabout is fair play.’   
  
“W-what are you doing?” Sakura squeaked, turning red as she realized that there was a knee between her legs, nudging her skirt higher up her thighs. The hospital, like all the other buildings in Suna was designed to keep the cool air in circulation but the warmth of his chest against hers wasn’t softening the peaked flesh of her nipples, they felt persistently taut with every breath. He smelled the same as he had the night he brought her dinner; dark, resinous wood and warm spices. He was attractive, a fact that was clearly part of her current problem. ‘What is he, a furnace?’ Even in letters Chiyo had referred to him as the handsome one, though Temari claimed that was just the old woman’s favoritism at play. ‘But there is a difference between acknowledging someone’s looks and…’ Well, she wasn’t even going to finish the thought.  
  
“Unlocking the door,” Sasori barely turned his head in her direction, the low set of his lashes concealed the way his avaricious eyes fell to her parted lips, tracking the nervous tongue and teeth that scraped against the abused skin . ‘She really should stop doing that.’ The wait was practically torture but he’d found that when it came to her, his patience had a greater abundance than previously thought. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” A part of him hoped that she had.  
  
Shadows had an interesting way of distorting perception, the look she was fixed with seemed less his usual, apathetic default and more...sultry, an idea that she immediately dismissed as being impossible. “No, no,” The sooner she got out the better. Getting stomach flutters from something as simple and innocent as being looked at under the right type of lighting spelled disaster better than any horoscope ever could. “Carry on.” Enjoying his company and _liking_ the way he felt pressed against her weren’t great signs either. She didn’t need a ton of experience to know that _,_ which _was_ good because the only romantic relationship Sakura had was taking on water fast and sinking somewhere out at sea, all S.O.S’s ignored.   
  
“How much longer is this going to take? I thought you would be faster...” Even genin could pick rudimentary locks and pockets, though their success and agility varied. Naruto for example, hadn’t been very good at either. Above them the lamp that had been spelling its own distress signal of sorts finally decided that a continued struggle just wasn’t worth it and played itself out with a funeral dirge of electrical pulses. It was not a sudden demise but Sakura found herself mourning its loss as Sasori hummed and the vibration ran through her, stirring a warmth between her thighs that his leg wasn’t curbing. ‘Having a physiological reaction is perfectly normal.’ Except it had never happened with anyone other than Sasuke before, Sakura had never allowed anyone else close enough to know if it _could_ and so she found herself completely out of depth.   
  
“You could have been out of here by now if you’d followed my advice.” As someone who was purposely dragging the entire process out Sasori had no right to feel insulted by her complaints but that recognition couldn’t stop his vindictive nature. “When _you_ master chakra strings feel free to critique my speed.” Tumblers went slipping into place with the twitch of a finger and the latch rolled loose a second later. A thin crack of light was all the warning Sakura got as gravity kicked in and the door swung out from behind the distracted woman.   
  
Even ninja’s had the occasional slip up--which varied from inconvenient to lethal but Sakura was not going to be falling assbackwards in public if she could help it. She’d been embarrassed enough for one day. ‘If I go down you go too.’ She thought, grabbing Sasori by the shirt for a second time. Thankfully he had the good sense to grab her arm in return, if only to prevent himself from being divested of his garment in plain view of a wandering nurse who had stopped to gawk at their sudden appearance. “I am going to mail all your spoons to my parents!” She hissed, pointing a finger at him as she recovered her balance, walked backward and then turned abruptly to scurry off.  
  
“When you do ask if they’ve sent that album yet.” Sasori called after her, chakra strings yo-yoing the binder she’d left behind into his hand. “It's been a week, how much longer do I have to wait?” He despised when the post was late.   
  
The nurse looked from the retreating figure and then back to the closet and the former Kage in its threshold and drew her own conclusions. ‘What an odd choice in bride-price.’ Most women chose gold or silver, property if the man had it. ‘And in some nomadic tribes livestock...although I suppose the spoons could be made of silver…’ Still, it seemed to her that the Kunoichi and her family were selling her short considering the suitor. ‘She could have well over a million ryo.’ Several bolts of silk and and quite a few horses too. [1]  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] There is dowry, which is wealth of some sort provided for the bride’s care in her marriage by her family; sometimes it is given to the husband but it could also be directly given to her to set up their new household. A Bride-Price is what in some cultures a man would pay to the woman’s family for them “losing” her since she is leaving their household and joining his. It's kinda like a consolation prize. “Here are some goats to make up for not having your daughter to care for you later in life.” And a dower is property from the husband allotted to the wife by law to care for her in the event of his death. 
> 
> Who is the dish and who is the spoon...I’d say Sakura is probably the dish out of the two of them. This is probably not the last time I stick Sasori and Sakura in a closet for my own amusement. 
> 
> Gaara: -doing his best to imitate Sasori.-  
> Sasori: You have the personality of a rock.
> 
> Pretty much how it went. Sasori was the cool older cousin who never let them join in on his “games” ( Murdering people for hire is sooo fun, all the kids are into it!) until Rasa forced him.
> 
> This is actually super freaking late. I caught the flu and it was/is rough. I got a new huion tablet for Christmas and haven’t had the energy to use it even once. Sad times. So yea if this chapter is garbage you can blame it on that. 
> 
> I do know a person who likes hospital blankets...I don’t see why but ok. I, however am the scum who loads up on cotton balls and alcohol swabs. I also wear whatever socks I happen to find laying around, matched or unmatched. Sometimes they aren’t even mine.
> 
> |ʘ‿ʘ)╯

**Author's Note:**

> That story in which Sasori is making moves on what is technically someone else's girl. You can blame Firethatfox for this.
> 
> "Stupid With Love" is basically referring to everyone in this fic lmao. Also a reference to Mean Girls on Broadway
> 
> Look, I'm slowly narrowing the age gap in my stories! At this rate there will be an actual same age au by the end of the year…I do not usually start stories without massive build up but I got like 5 other things going on( and counting) so I ain’t got time for that. This thing is mostly just some light hearted fun. 
> 
> Sorry to the Sauce fans but I still just cannot see Sasusaku in a positive light given how it's written in canon.….But to be fair Kishi was the one who said in an interview Sasuke couldn't handle Sakura so he deals with her by being absent as portrayed here. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> If you’re curious about timeline events I’m happy to answer though things more or less follow what was outlined in Bound Hearts, with the addition of there being no Uchiha massacre.
> 
> Some music for you to enjoy if you're interested in recommendations: Give Me Up-Babe
> 
> I like City Pop...its very retro feel good music. I'm also apparently incapable of uploading anything before 12am.


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